THE 


TWIN  SISTERS  OF  MARTIGNY 


feife 


FORTY  YEARS  AGO 


"What  Shadows  we  are,  what  Shadows  we  pursue." 

—  EDMUND  BURKE 


By 
THE  REV.  J.  F.  BINGHAM,  D.D.,  L.H.D. 

Lecturer  on  Italian  Literature,  Trinity  College,  Hartford,  Conn.,  Author  of 
Francesca  da  Rimini,  Canova's  Bonanza,  etc. 


BOSTON 
LEE    AND    vSHEPARD 

M  DCCC  XCIX 


COPYRIGHT,    1898 

By  J.   F.   BINGHAM 
All  rights  resewed 


DURING    AND    ENDURING 

THE    CHANGEFUL    YEARS 

ALIVE  AS  THE  WIND-HARP   TO   MUSIC 

WITH   MINE 


IN   HOPES  AND   IN   FEARS 
WHOM   BEST  OF   WOMANKIND   I   KNOW  AND   LOVE 

(Co  $et 

IS    DEDICATED 

Remembrance 


LIST  OF  VIEWS 


I  MART  I G  NY  .  .  Frontispiece 

II  CHAMOUNY  AND  AIGUILLES       .            Facing  page  I 

III  GRANDS   MULETS        ...."."  5 

IV  HOSPICE  — COMING   FROM   MARTIGNY     "  "  26 
V  AOSTA  — GENERAL  VIEW  .            .            .      "  "  66 

VI  LA  COMPAGNIA   MISERICORDIA             .      "  "  80 

VII  AOSTA  — OLD   SOUTH   GATE         .            .      "  IOO 

VIII            "             PRIORY   OF   S.  ORSO     .            .       "  "  IOQ 

IX            "             OLD   ROMAN   BRIDGE              .      "  "  III 

X  COMO— PUBLIC  GARDEN    .                         .      "  221 

XI  MER  DE   GLACE           .            .            .            .      "  "  339 

XII  BERNESE   ALPS             .            .            .            .      "  365 

XIII  AOSTA  — TRIUMPHAL  ARCH   OF   AUGUSTUS  "  373 

XIV  "           TOWER   OF   BRAMAFAM          .  "  3?6 


LIST  OF  VIGNETTES 


PAGE 

I  TRUMPET  OF   FRENCH  ARMY          .                       ,  6 

II  CAPPELLA   E   CAMPOSANTINO           ,  9 

III  HOSPICE  COMING   FROM  AOSTA      .                      ,  23 

IV  LA   MADONNA   S1STINA  .            .                       .  46 
V  SHADOW  OF   THE   FIR-TREE.            ...  68 

VI  VIGILO   OMBROSINI  .     '  ,119 

VII  TETE  NOIRE 137 

VIII  LEONCELLO   DA   MENTOVA     .  I&2 

IX  CASA  OMBROSINI    ...  169 

X  ALPINE  SOLITUDE           .           .  183 

XI  ROAD  TOWARD  THE  HOSPICE         ...  195 

XII  ROAD  TO  MARTIGNY  FROM  CASA  OMBROSINI  227 

XIII  NICODEMO  OMBROSINI              .           .                      .  244 

XIV  THE   TRYSTING-PLACE 270 

XV  THE   RETRIEVER    .           .                      ...  280 

XVI  ROMAN  CHALICE 3" 

XVII  LONELY  TURN  IN  THE   ROAD  TO  MARTIGNY  324 

XVIII  GRENOBLE  — QUAY 37° 

XIX  AT   NAPLES    .  37& 


(vii) 


I. 


THE  trumpet  rang  clear  and  the  notes  rolled 
in  echoes  from  the  mountain-sides.  My  ear 
trained  to  the  voice  of  the  military  bugle  could 
not  be  deceived. 

"  Ubi terrarum  siimus ? "  —  Where  am  I?  —  What 
troops  can  be  here  ? 

The  long,  last  note  was  hardly  over,  when  I  had 
gained  sufficient  consciousness  (though  still  some- 
what clouded  in  mind  and  memory)  to  leap  from 
my  bed  with  an  eager  anxiety  to  reconnoitre  the 
situation.  Peeping  over  the  short  curtain  which 
screened  the  lower  half  of  the  casement,  I  saw  a 
squadron  of  dragoons  formed  in  line  across  the 
greensward  in  front  of  me. 

They  wore  the  French  uniform  of  the  second 
empire.  In  front  of  the  line  was  an  officer,  whose 
dress  showed  him  to  be  of  very  high  rank,  su- 
perbly mounted  and  attended  by  a  numerous 
staff,  which  remained  stationary,  except  the  trum- 
peter who  clung  to  him  like  a  shadow,  and  a  jun- 
ior officer  who  followed  exactly  behind  him,  as  he 
presently  turned  and  rode  slowly  up  and  down 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

the  line,  occasionally  halting  to  examine  a  car- 
bine or  look  into  a  knapsack,  and  now  and  then 
wheeling  so  as  to  face  the  line  and  speaking,  ap- 
parently in  an  inaudible  voice,  something  which 
was  immediately  translated  into  ringing  notes  of 
the  horn,  and  instantly  obeyed  by  the  men. 

The  manoeuvres  being  presently  over,  the  old 
officer  turned  toward  me,  and  I  could  distinctly 
discern  a  weather-beaten  face,  a  snow-white  mus- 
tache, and  a  breast  covered  by  the  decorations  of 
many  orders.  I  had  seen,  I  afterwards  learned, 
a  marshal  of  France.  Was  it  Canrobert  ?  I  never 
certainly  knew.  He  retired,  followed  by  his  staff 
and  the  prolonged  salute  of  the  whole  command. 
The  junior,  who  until  this  moment  had  been 
merely  tracking  the  steps  of  his  superior,  now 
dashed  up  in  front  of  the  line  with  the  trumpeter 
at  his  side,  and  gave  a  few  orders,  which  were 
trumpeted  and  obeyed  as  before.  Then,  with  a 
spirited  flourish  of  the  trumpet,  all  started  off  at 
a  gallop,  and  a  moment  later  the  whole  vision 
had  vanished. 

I  wondered  much  that  French  dragoons,  in  a 
time  of  peace  in  this  part  of  the  world,  should  be 
in  Switzerland  and  on  the  frontier  of  Italy ;  and 
not  much  less,  at  so  high  an  officer  being  so  far 
outside  the  apparent  route  from  France  to  the 
seat  of  war  in  the  East. 


OF  MARTIGNY 

I  afterward  learned  that  the  great  officer  had  a 
mission  from  his  Emperor  to  meet  Cavour  at 
Turin  ;  that  the  squadron  of  dragoons  was  an 
escort  of  honor  which  had  been  detached  from  a 
large  body  of  the  same  which,  in  fact,  a  few 
weeks  before  I  myself  had  seen  at  Lyons  on  their 
way  to  a  transport-ship  at  Marseilles,  whence 
they  would  touch  at  Genoa,  receive  on  board  the 
marshal  and  his  escort  and  sail  direct  for  the  Bos- 
phorus. 

He  had  come  from  Lyons  to  Geneva  by  the  dil- 
igence^ had  passed  the  time,  till  the  arrival  of  the 
escort,  at  several  Alpine  resorts,  and  now  met 
them  for  the  first  time  at  Martigny,  whence  he 
and  his  staff  would  immediately  cross  by  the 
Great  St.  Bernard  and  meet  them  again  at  Aosta. 
There  he  and  his  staff  would  join  the  escort  and 
they  would  thence  proceed  together  to  Turin. 

The  events  just  described  happened  on  Sun- 
day, August  6,  1854  (according  to  my  diary), 
when  I  found  myself  at  the  Hotel  de  la  Tour  at 
Martigny.  I  had  arrived  in  the  darkness  on  the 
evening  before  from  Chamouny  by  the  Tete  Noire, 
after  a  nine-hours  mule-ride,  which  included  a 
thorough  drenching  in  a  tremendous  shower. 
Unusual  fatigue  had  prolonged  my  slumbers  well 
into  the  day.  When  the  bugle  awoke  me,  the 
glare  of  a  midsummer  sun  was  pouring  into  my 

3 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

little  chamber  through  the  slightly  curtained 
casement,  and  the  pillows  about  my  head  were 
bathed  in  a  brightness  with  which  they  glistened 
like  the  mountain  snowdrifts  of  which  I  had  been 
dreaming. 

One  of  the  most  wonderful  of  the  many  won- 
ders of  dreams  is,  I  think,  the  extension  of  min- 
utes, or  even  seconds,  into  a  seeming  conscious- 
ness of  hours'  duration.  This  dream  seemed  to 
me  to  have  been  going  on  for  an  hour  or  two,  at 
least,  though  I  have  reason  to  think  that  it  did  not 
really  occupy  five  minutes. 

During  a  week's  stay  at  Chamouny  I  had  been 
reading,  in  the  intervals  of  my  own  excursions 
(one  of  which  was  a  bootless  chamois-chase  with 
the  old  hunter,  Tairrez),  Albert  Smith's  romantic 
description  of  his  ascent  of  Mont  Blanc,  two  years 
before.  My  fancy  was  full  of  his  pictures,  many 
of  which  I  had  myself  just  verified. 

The  Glacier  de  Bossons  rose  before  my  mind  with 
its  scenes  of  "  splendid  desolation  and  horror."  Its 
huge  and  ragged  icebergs  glittered,  I  thought, 
like  pale  emeralds  in  the  rays  of  the  broad  moon 
which  was  just  setting  behind  the  Aiguille  du 
Gofite".  These  emerald-mountains  were  perfo- 
rated by  lofty  arches  overhung  by  pendent  icicles 
and  opening  a  distant  perspective  of  fantastic 
masses  beyond.  Some  of  these  distant  masses 

4 


OF  MARTIGNY 

seemed  to  be  stupendous  bridges  crossing  awful 
gulfs  below  ;  others  rose  like  embattled  castles 
on  projecting  cliffs  and  commanded,  in  the  view 
still  beyond,  valleys  and  gorges  of  boundless  ice. 

At  one  moment  I  seemed  to  be  sitting  on  the 
top  of  one  of  the  Grands  Mulcts,  searching  with 
the  chamois:glass  for  game  under  the  distant 
cliffs  to  right  and  left,  and  on  the  ragged  edges 
of  Montanvert ;  and  then  to  be  scanning  the  vil- 
lages in  the  Val  de  Chamouny,  which  appeared 
like  white  atoms  scattered  along  the  spotted 
ground. 

At  another  moment,  I  was  making  the  grand 
ascent,  and  was  passing,  around  the  precipitous 
flanks  of  the  Rochers  Rouges,  with  the  Jardin, 
Monte  Rosa,  and  the  Col  du  Ge'ant,  successively 
spreading  out  before  me ;  and  then  came  that 
stupendous  vista — the  vast  undulating  field  of 
ice  looking  down  the  Glacier  du  Tacul  toward  the 
beginning  of  the  Mer  de  Glace. 

Finally,  after  incredible  fatigue  and  dazed  with 
glory,  I  thought  I  stood  on  the  Calotte  itself  —  the 
very  cap  of  Mont  Blanc,  where  there  was  nothing 
higher  around  me.  The  sun,  coming  swiftly  up, 
was  already  tingeing  the  top  of  the  Aiguille  du 
Goute".  The  mists  in  the  valleys  were  spread  out 
like  a  "  filmy  ocean  "  on  every  side,  and,  pierced 
by  the  glittering  tips  of  the  higher  Aiguilles,  the 

5 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

tout-ensemble,  tinted  by  the  reflected  sheen,  lay 
before  me  and  around  me  like  an  "archipelago 
of  gold." 

The  growing  brilliance  went  on  brightening  at 
the  horizon  into  a  transparent  crimson,  merging 
away  toward  the  upper  sky  through  every  color 
of  the  bow — into  the  deepest  violet  at  forty-five 
degrees,  and  a  dark  azure  at  the  zenith.  The  liv- 
ing snow  reflected  in  a  paler  tint  every  overhang- 
ing color  ;  and  the  Ddme  du  Gofiti  stood  in  awful 
white  with  a  rosy  scarf  around  his  waist. 

At  the  moment  when  the  sun  sprang  above  the 
horizon,  and  an  indescribable  conflict  of  direct 
and  reflected  rays  confused  me  with  a  commin- 
gled and  overpowering  brilliance,  I  thought  a 
strain  of  celestial  music  burst  on  my  ear,  as  if 
ushering,  with  a  flourish  of  angelic  trumpets,  the 
arrival  of  the  king  of  day.  This  music  awoke 
me ;  and  I  recognized,  as  I  have  described,  the 
notes  of  a  bugler  of  French  dragoons. 


OF  MARTIGNY 


II. 

Hark,  the  Sunday-morning  bell, 

Sweet  music  making, 
Ringing  clear  o'er  wood  and  dell, 

To  worship  waking  ! ' 

AS  I  finished  my  toilet  a  sound  of  many  voices 
was  becoming  more  and  more  audible 
abroad.  I  went  again  to  the  window  and  now 
threw  open  the  casement.  The  dark-blue  sky  was 
unflecked.  Trees,  rocks,  and  sod,  and  even  the 
unsightly  houses  of  the  poor  town,  after  being 
washed  by  the  shower  which  had  drenched  me 
and  my  beast  the  evening  before,  stood  in  Sun- 
day dress  and  seemed  to  be  shining  with  a  keen 
holiday  joy.  As  often  a  woman,  whom  the  world 
accounts  plain,  will  brighten  under  some  pleasing 
excitement  so  that  we  forget  the  disparagement 
of  her  attractions  and  declare  that  she  is  beauti- 
ful still,  so  I  could  not  then  help  admiring  homely 
Martigny  "  en  /tat  du  plus  beau  jour." 

At  this  moment  the  bell  of  the  little  church 
was  started,  and  began  to  send  out  its  clanging 

7 


THE    TWIN   SISTERS 

peals.  Under  its  magnetic  influence,  the  scene 
soon  became  stirring  and  picturesque.  The  main 
road  and  several  mountain  footpaths  grew  alive 
with  country-folk  and  village-folk.  Man  and 
maid,  mother  and  babe,  rollicking  childhood  and 
old  age  creeping  on  its  staff,  came  converging 
toward  the  sanctuary.  At  a  little  distance  in 
front  of  the  leather-curtained  door,  on  the  green 
borders  of  the  highway,  or  where  a  building,  tree, 
or  mossy  bowlder  offered  a  shade  from  the  August 
sun,  were  ever-increasing  groups  in  holiday  attire. 

Waists  and  petticoats  shone  in  all  the  hues  of 
the  Alpine  bow.  Ribbons  as  bright  and  varied 
floated  from  broad-brimmed  hats  of  Livorno.  Un- 
der these  broad  brims,  oval  cheeks,  olive  with 
Italian  blood  and  dyed  yet  deeper  by  kisses  of 
wanton  wind  and  ardent  sun,  but  faintly  disguised 
the  roses  that  bloomed  and  withered  there,  and 
eyes,  black  as  ravens'  wings,  shot  out  their  spark- 
ling rays  —  dangerous  enough  within  their  humble 
range.  Often  these  jaunty  sombreros  hung  swing- 
ing from  dusky  wrists  and  forearms  which  no  fur- 
ther exposure  could  darken.  Below  the  bright 
petticoat,  also,  sometimes  a  dark-blue  stocking, 
but  oftener  a  sun-browned  ankle,  appeared,  and 
then  a  queer,  stout  shoe. 

The  males  of  all  ages  were  clad  of  course  in  the 
infamous  "  Martigny  brown."  It  was  clean,  how- 


OF  MARTIGNY 

ever;  and  many  a  young  man,  and  often  an  older, 
sported  a  jaunty  ribbon  on  his  hat. 

The  bell  ceased.  The  group  about  the  church 
door  disappeared.  Other  groups  and  individuals 
approached  and  entered.  A  few,  however,  re- 
mained without,  absorbed  in  conversation,  or  even 
in  some  quiet  amusement. 


CAPPELLA    E   CAMPOSANTINO. 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 


III. 

The  grave  is  still  and  deep  ; 

Frightful  its  portals  stand, 
The  secrets  safe  to  keep 

Of  the  unkenned  land. 

No  songs  of  Nightingale 

In  those  deep  chambers  sound  ; 

And  Friendship's  roses  fall 

Lone  on  the  moss-grown  mound. 

There  Brides  will  wring  and  wound 

Their  hands  in  helplessness ; 
Nor  through  the  cold,  deep  ground 

Can  plaints  of  Orphans  press.9 

AN  hour  later,  after  my  frugal  colazione,  I  was 
seated  in  the  neighborhood  of  these  groups 
with  my  book  in  the  attitude,  but  hardly  in  the 
act,  of  reading.  The  worshipers  were  now  is- 
suing from  the  church  and  scattering  in  all  direc- 
tions toward  their  homes.  A  few  turned  their 
pensive  steps  toward  the  cemetery.  These,  of 
whom,  as  far  as  I  remember,  there  may  have  been 
a  half-dozen,  were  all  females.  My  attention,  it  is 
hard  to  tell  why,  was  so  earnestly  arrested  by  the 
figure  and  bearing  of  one  of  these  that  I  followed 

TO 


OF  MARTIGNY 

and  quietly,  and  I  think  unobserved,  entered  the 
open  gates  of  the  "  Campo  Santo,"  consecrated 
ground,  where  mortal  bodies  are  planted  for  the 
harvest  of  immortality. 

After  passing  some  time  in  respectful  examina- 
tion of  the  very  various  and  though  rude  yet  often 
exceedingly  touching  memorials  of  the  departed, 
I  came  upon  a  chair,  e  naturalibus,  which  stood  be- 
side a  grave  on  which  many  flowers  were  grow- 
ing. The  spot  at  that  hour  lay  gratefully  beneath 
the  shade  of  a  wide-spreading  beach-tree  that 
grew  outside  the  wall.  I  occupied  that  chair,  not 
without  a  twinge  of  conscience  in  making  a  con- 
venience of  a  seat  evidently  sacred  to  mourning 
love  and  consecrated  by  sad  and  solemn  medita- 
tions, I  could  not  doubt,  of  death  and  immor- 
tality. 

All  considerations  of  myself,  however,  were 
soon  drowned  by  an  absorption  in  the  scenes 
transpiring  around  me.  All  or  the  most  of  those 
whom  I  had  seen  enter  the  enclosure  were  now 
kneeling  at  the  head  of  one  grave  and  another 
telling  their  beads.  Among  them  I  saw  the  figure 
that  had  interested  me  before,  and  had  been  the 
attraction  which  had  drawn  me  to  the  spot. 

Motionless  as  a  statue,  it  was  kneeling  at  the 
head  of  two  comparatively  recent  graves  —  or,  to 
speak  more  exactly,  a  double  grave.  The  mounds 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

were  barely  distinguishable  as  two,  so  nearly  did 
the  adjacent  sides  coalesce  in  one  curve.  The 
headboard  (for  it  was  of  wood),  was  painted  white 
with  lettering  of  black.  After  an  old  fashion, 
common  enough  in  rustic  graveyards,  it  was  one 
piece,  but  divided  at  the  top  into  two  tangent 
semi-circles,  each,  in  this  instance,  surmounted 
with  a  rudely  cut  cross.  Properly  speaking,  there 
was  no  inscription.  But  on  the  right  side  was  the 
letter  L,  and  on  the  left,  M.  The  letters  were  so 
large  (I  should  think  two  feet  in  length)  as  to 
reach  nearly  over  the  whole  height  of  the  slab  ; 
and  there  was  no  more,  whether  of  epitaph  or 
ornament,  there. 

My  position  being  directly  in  front,  the  face  of 
the  figure  at  first  I  could  not  see.  But  the  cut 
and  tone  of  apparel  bespoke  youth  in  the  wearer. 
Her  head  also  was  uncovered,  and  an  intermittent 
zephyr  would  now  and  then  play  with  some  fugi- 
tive lock  which  had  broken  loose  from  the  glossy, 
black  cable  of  braided  tresses  which  it  seemed 
certain  could  not  yet  have  buffeted  the  storms  of 
twenty  Alpine  winters.  Besides,  there  was  an 
indescribable  apparent  suppleness  (though  with- 
out any  real  movement)  in  the  figure  which 
seemed  to  express  beyond  mistake  the  trembling 
tenderness  of  still  lingering  girlhood. 

The  forces  of  nature,  however,  seemed  to  sym- 


OF  MARTIGNY 

pathize  in  my  interest,  and  helped  partially  to 
relieve  my  curiosity.  The  sun,  now  past  the 
meridian,  soon  began  to  encroach  on  the  shade 
of  the  fir  which  had  sheltered  these  graves  dur- 
ing the  morning  hours;  and  the  kneeling  figure, 
turning  to  escape  the  advancing  rays,  offered 
unconsciously  to  the  scrutiny  of  my  glass, —  for  ' 
I  sat  at  a  distance  quite  sufficient  to  forestall  any 
scruples  of  improper  intrusion  on  my  part  or 
any  notice  on  hers  —  a  profile  of  strangely  com- 
mingled and  strangely  attractive  loveliness.  With 
due  allowance  for  the  rudeness  of  the  environ- 
ment, a  fairer  vision  I  never  beheld.  Religion, 
simplicity,  beauty,  sorrow  were  blended  in  that 
picture  in  a  fascination  which  captivated  me,  soul 
and  body,  and  which  I  had  no  inclination  left  to 
resist. 

My  heart  palpitated  with  emotion.  I  can  feel 
its  throbs  at  this  moment.  I  used  my  glass  in- 
dustriously many  minutes,  till  every  outline  of 
her  figure  and  every  thread  of  her  attire  became 
indelibly  registered  in  my  memory. 

Upon  the  grass  at  her  side  lay  a  pair  of  clean  but 
heavy  shoes.  A  flat-brimmed  hat  of  coarse  black 
straw,  trimmed  scantily  but  very  neatly  with  lus- 
terless  black  ribbons,  depended  by  the  tie-strings 
from  a  corner  of  the  headboard  above  described 
and  swung  gently  in  the  intermittent  breeze 

'3 


THE    TWIN   SISTERS 

which  ever  and  anon  puffed  over  the  silent 
mounds  and  toyed  with  the  tufted  grass. 

Her  eyes  were  closed.  The  long  silken  lashes 
lay  trembling  on  the  lids.  Occasional  crystal 
drops  darted  out,  chased  one  another  by  leaps  and 
starts  across  the  olive  cheek,  and  fell  to  the 
ground. 

Her  face  was  sharply  cut  in  features  of  a  strik- 
ing outline  and  of  exceeding  beauty.  Her  hair  of 
the  deepest  black  was  parted  on  a  broad,  low  fore- 
head, and  drawn  smoothly  back  to  be  confined  be- 
hind by  one  of  those  curious  silver  combs  which 
are  so  often  found  among  the  better  class  of 
peasantry  in  most  of  the  countries  of  Continental 
Europe  —  inherited  and  handed  down  through 
many  generations. 

Her  feet  were  bare  —  a  matter,  however,  of  no 
great  note  or  significance,  at  that  period,  in  her 
sphere  of  life  and  in  that  quarter  of  the  world, — 
though,  I  believe,  the  march  of  civilization  and 
artificial  life  has  now  arrived  and  changed  much 
of  these  primeval  habits  even  there  to-day. 

Notwithstanding  this,  her  attire  in  general  was 
distinctly  above  that  of  her  class, —  that  is  to  say, 
of  the  class  to  which  I  took  her  to  belong, —  more 
subdued  and  refined  in  taste,  with  a  nearer  ap- 
proach to  elegance,  or,  at  least,  to  a  suggestion  of 
it  in  both  cut  and  finish,  even  where  the  material 

14 


OF  MARTIGNY 

was  but  the  common  stuff  of  the  country.  She 
wore  a  sleeveless  bodice  of  some  thin  black  fab- 
ric, deeply  dtfcolleti 'over  a  chemisette  of  white  dotted 
muslin,  with  sleeves  of  the  same,  frilled  at  the 
wrist.  Upon  the  heart-shaped  top  of  the  bodice 
in  front  lay  a  curious  rosette  of  black  crape.  From 
the  waist  flowed  a  narrow  black  skirt  of  a  thicker 
material  than  the  bodice,  and  longer  than  the 
usual  habit  of  peasant-girls  in  Switzerland  and 
Italy,  just  revealing,  as  she  knelt,  the  soles  of 
unshod  feet. 

Her  hands  were  clasped  in  front.  On  a  pink 
coral  rosary,  which  depended  from  them,  ever  and 
anon  a  bead  would  drop  —  the  record  of  a  prayer 
recited. 

All  the  other  figures  except  the  object  of  my 
curious  concern  one  by  one  disappeared  from  the 
consecrated  spot.  The  worshiping  congregation 
had  long  since  vanished.  Along  the  highway  and 
on  the  far-off  footpaths  of  the  mountain-side  the 
diminishing,  twinkling,  fading  bright  dresses  had 
all  dissolved  away  in  the  blue  mist  of  empty  dis- 
tance. Only  we.  two  of  living  beings  were  in  any 
quarter  visible;  and  she  was  absorbed  and  uncon- 
scious of  my  presence. 

The  village  street  was  now  noiseless  and  empty. 
High  noon  had  taken  possession  of  the  world. 
The  intermittent  zephyr  was  dead.  Not  a  leaf 

15 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

fluttered.  Not  a  blade  of  grass  nodded  at  my  feet. 
Not  a  ripple  passed  over  the  golden  surface  of 
the  neighboring  grain-field.  Not  a  cloud  floated 
in  the  deep,  silent  sky.  Changeless  and  motion- 
less the  kneeling  girl  kept  on  with  her  voiceless 
prayers,  and  steadily  the  recording  beads  kept 
dropping. 

In  that  universal  silence,  time  seemed  to  join 
hands  with  eternity.  Sitting  thus  under  the 
glittering  stillness  of  that  summer  Sunday  noon- 
tide, amidst  a  congregation  of  unknown  dead,  in 
speechless  company  with  that  young,  beautiful, 
sad,  saintly  stranger,  who,  unconscious  of  my  pres- 
ence, was  conversing  with  heaven,  I  thought 
dreamily,  yet  sadly,  too,  of  another  graveyard,  far 
away  beyond  the  dreary  ocean,  where  bodies  dear 
to  me  also  were  sleeping  their  dreamless  and  un- 
waking  sleep. 

Presently  my  reverie  was  broken.  The  scene 
assumed  a  more  earthly  but  not  less  interesting 
aspect.  The  religieuse  became  again  a  shuliere. 
The  haloed  saint,  hedged  about  by  the  sanctities 
of  death  and  prayer,  became  again  but  a  sweet, 
sorrowful  girl,  with  a  pitiful  story,  no  doubt,  to 
tell,  and  a  woman's  heart  most  assuredly  hungry 
for  sympathy. 

The  figure  moved.  The  rosary  was  replaced. 
The  red  crucifix  rested  on  the  white  muslin  that 

16 


OF  MARTIGNY 

covered  her  rising  and  falling  bosom.  She  crossed 
herself  above  and  on  either  side  of  the  sacred  em- 
blem, then  arose  from  her  knees  and  sat  at  the 
foot  of  the  fir-tree.  Presently  she  reached  after 
the  suspended  bonnet,  with  a  slow  precision  fixed 
it  on  her  head,  and,  taking  the  discarded  shoes  in 
her  hand,  arose  and  passed  with  hasty  steps 
toward  the  cemetery  gate. 

To  her  surprise  and  mine  it  was  closed  ;  and 
though  not  locked  (as  it  would  not  be  till  sunset, 
the  great  padlock  hanging  loose  on  the  post), 
some  ignorant  or  careless  hand  had  turned  a 
clumsy  fixture  which  could  be  undone  only  from 
the  outer  side. 

To  force  the  heavy  timbers  was  impossible. 
The  enclosing  wall,  built  of  rough  but  firmly  ce- 
mented stones,  might,  with  difficulty,  be  climbed. 
Indeed,  there  was  now  no  other  way  of  egress. 

I  saw  her  turn  and  look  anxiously  along  the  line 
of  the  stony  barricade  to  discover  if  there  were 
any  spot  more  feasible  than  another  for  such  an 
ascent  and  the  still  more  perilous  descent  on  the 
opposite  side.  I  had  wished  for  a  decent  occasion 
to  accost  her.  That  opportunity  had  now  ap- 
peared. I  sprang  up  and  ran  towards  her. 

She  had  already  laid  her  shoes  on  the  top  of  the 
wall,  and  set  one  foot  on  a  projecting  stone,  when 
I  was  near  enough  to  exclaim  : 

17 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

"  Mon  enfant !  "  —  for  although  I  was  convinced 
by  what  has  been  already  mentioned,  that  she  had 
passed  a  good  way  into  the  experience  of  the 
graver  cares  and  sorrows  of  life,  yet  she  seemed 
so  tender  and  young  that  I  could  not  force  myself 
to  give  her  a  maturer  title  — 

—  ''''Mon  enfant,  pardonnez-moi,  mais  certainement 
vous  me  permettrez  de  vous y  aider"  [Pardon,  my  child, 
let  me  help  you.] 

"  J'en  vous  remercie,  monsieur,  merci  de  bon  coeur" 
[Thank  you,  thank  you,  sir,  with  all  my  heart] 
came  back  in  timid  but  sweet  tones. 

Nerved  by  a  pleasurable  excitement,  I  leaped 
or  climbed  (I  know  not  how)  over  the  uncouth 
wall,  released  the  gentle  prisoner,  replaced  the 
bars,  and  received  a  repetition  of  sweet  thanks 
with  an  added  'Adieu,'  as  she  started  briskly  for- 
ward. But  desiring  to  prolong  the  agreeable 
meeting,  I  walked  on  by  her  side  on  the  grassy 
bank  of  the  highway.  She  observed  my  move- 
ment and  gave  me  a  sad  smile,  but  nothing  more. 
I  knew  not  what  to  say  to  start  a  conversation  that 
would  be  agreeable  to  her,  and  so  for  a  little  time 
we  walked  on  in  silence. 

At  last,  thinking  I  might  be  more  sure  to  buy 
her  favor  and  open  the  avenues  to  a  genial  ac- 
quaintance by  a  little  gentle  flattery,  I  said  : 

"Mademoiselle,  it  seems  to  me  a  strange  thing 

18 


OF  MARTIGNY 

to  see  one  so  young  and  beautiful,  whom  every- 
body must  be  ready  to  please  and  make  happy, 
looking  so  sad  and  lingering  in  so  gloomy  a 
place." 

But  she  only  glanced  on  me  another  sweet 
smile  and  said  nothing. 

After  revolving  it  several  times  in  my  thoughts, 
and  computing  the  probable  consequences,  I  ven- 
tured to  risk  the  question  point-blank  : 

"Mademoiselle,  do  you  often  come  here?" 

"  Yes,  monsieur,  on  Sundays  when  it  is  clear." 

"  And  to  these  same  graves  ?  " 

"  Always,  monsieur." 

"  Dear  ones  must  be  sleeping  there  ? " 

"  The  dearest,  monsieur." 

"  Father  and  mother  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  they.  Dear  mother  lies  elsewhere. 
Babbo  vive  ancora,  grazie  a  Iddio  "  [Papa  lives  yet, 
thank  God].  Only  the  last  part  was  in  Italian,  the 
rest  in  French,  as  usual.  This  surprised  me,  but 
afterwards  it  was  explained.  To  my  further 
questioning,  "One  is  my  sister,"  she  replied,  "the 
other  —  I  cannot  tell  —  I  do  not  know  who  it  is." 

"  What ! "  said  I,  "  each  of  those  graves  holds 
one  dearer  to  you  than  all  the  world  beside,  yet 
one  of  them  you  do  not  know  who  it  is  !  " 

"  It  is  so." 

"  That  is  very  strange." 

19 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

"Alas  !  it  is  too  true.  It  is  the  saddest  part  of 
my  sad  lot.  Oh,  if  I  knew  who  it  is  !  "  Her  cheeks 
flushed  crimson  and  tears  stood  in  her  lustrous 
eyes. 

Not  without  a  sentiment  of  pity  at  the  evident 
distress  of  the  beautiful  stranger,  mingled  with 
some  alarm  at  the  delicate  ground  on  which  I 
was  treading,  my  curiosity  pushed  me  on  to 
insist : 

"  Do  explain  to  me  this  riddle,  mademoiselle." 

"  I  am  pressed,"  she  replied,  hurriedly,  with  her 
free  hand  brushing  away  the  great  teardrops  that 
glittered  in  her  eyes. 

No  doubt,  by  all  the  rules  of  politeness  and 
propriety,  I  ought  to  have  been  satisfied  with  this 
and  bade  my  interesting  companion  a  courteous 
'  Adieu.'  A  thousand  times  since,  at  the  recollec- 
tion of  it,  I  have  felt  twinges  of  mortification  at 
my  reckless  impertinence.  But  I  was  young ;  the 
girl  was  not  only  beautiful,  but  with  that  peculiar 
charm  which  instantly  and  powerfully  inflames 
the  masculine  heart.  The  fact  was,  that  I  was 
unwilling  to  leave  her.  It  would  have  cost  me 
too  severe  a  pang  to  break  away  from  her  mag- 
netic presence. 

And  I  did,  also,  vehemently  wish,  for  its  own 
sake,  to  get  this  revelation  of  the  secrets  of  her 
sweet,  maiden  soul.  For  mystery  was  always 


OF  MARTIGNY 

very  attractive  for  me ;  and  I  could  not  believe 
that  in  this  instance  it  shrouded  any  guilt  or 
shame  on  her  part.  In  short,  I  selfishly  resolved, 
by  mere  force  of  will,  to  overpower  her  resistance 
and  ravish  her  secret  for  my  own  gratification. 

Assuming  an  insinuating  gentleness,  I  per- 
sisted : 

"  Your  secret  will  be  very  safe  with  me,  made- 
moiselle, for  we  shall  never  meet  again." 

She  merely  replied,  in  an  agitated  tone :  "  I 
have  far  to  go." 

"  Whither,  mademoiselle  ?  " 

"  Four  hours  towards  the  Hospice." 

"  Of  St.  Bernard  ?  " 

"  Si  Signore."  Then,  as  correcting  herself,  "  Oui, 
monsieur" 

It  now  flashed  into  my  mind  that  she  had  made 
this  slip  again,  unconsciously,  into  her  vernacu- 
lar, and  that,  as  her  complexion  and  the  fire  in 
her  eyes  seemed  to  show,  she  was  certainly  an 
Italian  —  perhaps  an  exile,  and  God  only  knows 
for  what  reasons  —  perhaps  political  —  perhaps 
criminal.  Who  can  tell  into  what  a  network  of 
suspicion,  arrest,  imprisonment,  I  may  be  foolishly 
running  ?  Then  a  momentary  vision  of  daggers 
and  cups  of  poison  and  a  grim  phantasmagoria  a 
la  Cesar e  Borgia  shot  through  my  soul.  But  a 
look  into  her  pure  and  gentle  face  reassured  me, 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

at  least  sufficiently  so  to  make  me  adhere  to  my 
purpose.  Yet  I  was  not  quite  at  ease.  Such 
thoughts  rushed  through  my  mind  as  these  :  '  Is 
not  this  the  way  the  Syrens  always  allure  ?  Am 
I  not  utterly  alone  here  ?  If  I  should  be  made 
1  away  with,  —  dropped  into  some  fissure  of  a  gla- 
cier— which  she  or  some  hidden  accomplice  could 
so  easily  do  —  who  would  ever  know  what  be- 
came of  me  ?  Or,  if  left  stark  at  the  roadside, 
and  picked  up  and  buried  in  the  strangers'  lot,  or 
put  into  the  morgue  of  the  Hospice,  who  would  ever 
be  the  wiser  as  to  how  I  met  my  fate  ? ' 

In  this  way  the  courage  of  my  passionate  desire 
failed  me  a  hundred  times,  and  was  a  hundred 
times  restored  by  another  look  into  her  dear 
face,  which  was  always  convincing,  satisfying, 
irresistible. 

There  had  been  some  moments'  silence,  while 
this  internal  scuffle  of  ideas  had  been  going  on 
for  me,  when  at  last  I  dashed  across  the  Rubicon 
with : 

"  I  was  to  go  to  the  Hospice  to-morrow.  I  would 
go  to-day.  Mightn't  we  walk  in  company? " 

"As  monsieur  pleases,  but  I  must  go  quickly." 

"  I  think  I  can  keep  step,  mademoiselle." 

"  I  think  monsieur  has  never  raced  with  an  Alpine 
girl." 

I  noticed  the  word  and  thought  with  myself, 


OF  MARTIGNY 

for  an  instant, '  Is  it  possible  that  this  sad  creature 
is  coquetting  with  my  interest  in  her,  and  is  verg- 
ing on  fun  ?  is  she  preparing,  perhaps,  to  play 
me  a  practical  joke  ? '  I  could  not  believe  it,  but 
shaping  my  answer  to  meet  her  seeming  chal- 
lenge, I  replied: 

"  If  I  succeed  in  the  race,  will  you  then  tell  me 
the  riddle  ?  Shall  it  be  the  prize  of  my  victory? " 

"  I  do  not  know  if  I  shall  be  able,"  she  said  in  a 
tone,  I  thought,  of  commingled  indifference  and 
sadness. 

"  I  will  take  that  risk,"  I  replied,  and  with  a  gay 
'An  revoir,'  to  which  she  responded  with  another, 
I  flew  to  my  lodgings  to  make  the  few  needful 
preparations. 


HOSPICE    OF    ST.    BERNARD,  A.  U.    1854. 
Coming  from  Aosta. 

23 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 


IV. 

"  She  sings  the  wild  song  of  her  own  native  plains, 

Every  note  which  He  loved  awaking, 
Ah,  little  they  think  who  delight  in  her  strains, 
How  the  heart  of  the  Minstrel  is  breaking." 

MOORE'S  IRISH  MELODIES. 

IN  a  short  half  hour  my  brief  arrangements  were 
completed,  and  I  was  en  route  for  the  Hospice, 
hastening  at  my  utmost  speed,  for  together  with 
the  advantage  of  the  start,  I  knew  that  the  girl 
had  shot  on  at  a  rate  I  could  hardly  hope  to 
exceed. 

Leaving  Martigny  for  the  south,  the  road  pres- 
ently parts  into  two  great  routes  —  one  leading  to 
Geneva  and  France,  the  other  to  Turin  and  Italy, 
over  the  Pass  of  the  Great  St.  Bernard.  I  took 
the  latter,  and  with  a  few  bounds,  leaping  like 
a  boy,  crossed  the  wooden  bridge  over  the 
Drance  and  proceeded  at  a  brisk  pace,  with  the 
gurgling  ice-waters  on  my  left.  The  scene 
around  me  was  grandly  picturesque.  In  the 
stillness  of  the  hour,  the  voices  of  nature,  unmin- 
gled  with  artificial  sounds,  were  melodizing  in  a 

24 


OF  MARTIGNY 

kind  of  awful  symphony  that  was  enchanting. 
Elevated  with  a  delicious  excitement,  in  sympa- 
thy with  the  environments,  I  passed  swiftly  on, 
leaving  the  outskirts  of  the  village  quickly  behind 
me. 

The  road  here  is  comparatively  direct,  yet  nu- 
merous minor  turns,  suiting  to  the  broken  nature 
of  the  ground,  or  to  the  windings  of  the  stream, 
continual  sinuosities  of  the  smoother  parts  of  the 
surface,  intervening  bowlders,  and  occasional 
patches  of  larch,  beech,  or  fir-forest,  render  the 
perspective  of  the  passenger,  in  this  part  of  the 
route,  limited  and  uncertain. 

As  I  turned  each  bend  of  the  way,  or  rounded 
a  huge  bowlder,  or  escaped  some  interposed  bush 
or  tree,  I  stretched  my  sight  to  catch  a  glimpse 
of  the  flying  maiden,  but  in  vain.  And  worse 
than  this,  I  often  imagined  that  I  saw  her  in 
the  distance  before  me,  only  to  be  deceived  and 
disappointed.  The  object  presently  proved  to 
be  a  rock,  or  bush,  or  shadow,  or  some  other 
optical  illusion. 

After  many  such  little  eminences  had  been  sur- 
mounted in  vain,  many  such  turns  in  the  road 
passed  without  discovery  of  the  object  of  my 
search,  many  illusive  hopes  even,  raised  only  to 
be  dashed,  at  last  my  spirits  began  to  sink,  my 
courage  began  to  fail.  Was  it  not  becoming  evi- 

25 


THE    TWIIf  SISTERS 

dent  that  I  had  been  deceived  by  that  strange 
girl?  Was  it  not  more  likely  than  otherwise, 
that  this  lovely,  sad,  and  apparently  so  ingenuous 
creature,  had  started  me  on  a  false  track  to  escape 
my  annoying  importunity  ?  Was  n't  she  an  Ital- 
ian? Shades  of  the  Borgias!  What  better  should 
I  have  expected  ? 

My  brain  swam.  The  still  summer  air,  the 
lonely  highway,  the  silent  landscape,  the  long 
vista  down  the  valley  of  the  Rhone,  the  stupen- 
dous gorges  on  either  side,  the  amazing  Galerie 
de  la  Monnoye,  ever  and  anon  the  roar  of  distant 
avalanches,  the  reechoed  sounds  of  falling  or 
rushing  waters,  the  presence  of  the  snow-capped, 
glittering,  unspeakable  mountains  standing  so 
near  and  yet  so  far  on  every  hand  ;  — all  these 
mighty  inspirations,  which  ought  to  have  invig- 
orated my  soul,  and  contributed  not  more  to  my 
wonder  than  to  a  sentiment  of  serenity  and  joy, 
now  operated,  on  the  contrary,  to  disturb  my 
peace,  disorder  my  memory,  excite  my.  forebod- 
ings, bewilder  my  thoughts.  I  began  to  doubt 
whether  the  maiden  and  her  concerns  had  not 
been  the  phantoms  of  a  dream  —  or,  if  she  were 
a  reality,  she  had  not  put  herself  where  I  should 
not  meet  her  again. 

Should  I  then  proceed  a  step  further  ?  I  can- 
not fully  describe  my  deliberations  ;  but  with  the 

26 


?•§ 


OF  MARTIGNY 

suddenness  of  a  thought,  I  faced  about  and  began 
slowly  to  retrace  my  steps. 

As  I  repassed  a  detour  in  the  highway,  around  a 
sparsely- wooded  cliff,  where  the  dismantled  Cas- 
tle of  the  old  Bishops  of  Sion  comes  into  view 
high  on  the  mountain-side  to  the  right,  I  became 
conscious  of  an  indistinct  musical  cadence  which 
seemed  to  be  floating  in  the  air  around  me.  I 
fancied  that  I  could  distinguish  the  higher  notes 
of  a  female  voice,  though,  except  at  brief  and 
infrequent  intervals,  it  was  quite  drowned  in 
the  multifold  echoes  from  the  distant  mountain- 
sides, and  in  the  absorbing  immensity  of  the  vast 
chasms. 

For  a  time  this  faint  melody  seemed  to  grow 
nearer  and  clearer.  Then  it  suddenly  ceased 
altogether  ;  and  my  own  footfalls  were  painfully 
audible  in  that  vast  stillness,  unbroken  save  by 
the  soft  twitter  of  some  little  bird  sheltered  in 
a  neighboring  bough,  or  the  faint  tinkle  from  a 
goat  feeding  hundreds  of  feet  towards  the  sky 
on  some  well-nigh  inaccessible  rock,  each  drop- 
ping in  with  a  melodious  monotony  upon  na- 
ture's own  soft,  low,  tremendous,  eternal  diapason. 

What  was  it  to  me,  then,  that  I  was  surrounded 
by  enrapturing  prospects,  and  fanned  by  the 
breeze  that  had  been  cooled  on  the  Bernese  Alps, 
and  brought  to  my  ears,  like  perpetual  minute- 

27 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

guns,  the  soft  thunder  of  the  distant  Jung/raits 
incessant  avalanches?  What  was  it  all  to  me? 
I  lacked  the  mood  to  listen  or  to  look,  to  be 
charmed  or  distracted.  I  was  uneasy,  disap- 
pointed, disconsolate.  I  sauntered  slowly  and 
wretchedly  along  on  my  mortifying  return.  Sud- 
denly the  full,  clear  notes  of  a  wild  song  burst, 
like  a  mountain-torrent,  on  my  ear.  The  words  I 
could  not  retain.  The  cadence  and  substance 
was  as  follows  : 

At  dawn  I  drank  the  breeze 

Gentle  and  clear  and  cool, 
Flowing  beneath  the  trees, 

With  soft  refreshment  full. 

I  walked  at  midday  there  ; 

The  blazing  sun  was  hot, 
And  through  the  sultry  air 

His  withering  arrows  shot. 

Ere  fell  the  shades  of  even 

Dark  storm-clouds  downward  poured, 

And  through  the  dreary  heaven 
A  fierce  tornado  roared. 

Is  this,  is  this  the  breeze 

That  soothed  me  at  the  dawn, 
That  whispered  in  the  trees, 

And  rippled  o'er  the  lawn  ? 

Has  the  soft  zephyr,  given 

For  morn's  refreshing  breath, 
Before  the  fall  of  even 

Become  the  blast  of  death  ? 

28 


OF  MARTIGNY 

Still  blacker  grows  the  storm, 

Reddening  with  Fury's  flash! 
Woe,  woe!  a  noble  form 

Falls  lifeless  in  the  crash! 

When,  when,  like  breeze  of  even, 

Soft  flowing  o'er  the  lawn, 
When,  from  a  gentle  heaven, 

Shall  rise  the  changeless  dawn  ? 

I  sank  softly  upon  a  bowlder  at  my  side,  and 
listened  till  the  melody  was  over.  Then,  as  I 
could  not  doubt  who  the  singer  must  be,  nor 
could  she  be  far  aside  from  the  beaten  track,  nor 
from  the  spot  where  I  was  sitting,  I  quickly  arose, 
and,  again  reversing  my  steps  on  the  highway, 
began  a  careful  examination  of  every  plausible 
by-path,  every  shelving  rock,  every  nook  and 
corner  that  seemed  possible  to  hide  her  from  the 
notice  of  a  careless  passenger. 

I  was  at  that  moment  at  the  top  of  a  gentle 
eminence  where  the  Val  de  Ferret  opens  into  the 
Val  d'  Entremont.  I  had  not  taken  twenty  steps 
towards  Osier es  and  the  bridge  which  crosses  the 
Drance  for  the  third  time  to  one  coming  from 
Martigny,  when,  looking  always  on  this  side  and 
on  that,  I  saw  in  the  shade  of  a  huge  black  bowl- 
der, a  few  paces  on  the  left  of  the  traveled  path, 
and  almost  concealed  behind  a  clump  of  ever- 
greens, my  lost  maiden  sitting  deeply  absorbed 
on  a  kind  of  moss-cushioned  sofa. 

29 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 


V. 

Oh,  do  not  dry 
Love's  endless  tears  ; 
To  the  half-dried  eye 
The  world  appears 
Empty  and  dead. 
For  aye  let  tears  be  shed 
O'er  love  untasted ; 
They  are  not  wasted. 3 

AT  the  discovery  of  the  maiden,  one  need  not 
be  told,  my  discontent  was  instantly  gone  ; 
and  not  only  the  end  of  my  solicitude,  but  as  well 
the  interesting  picture  before  me,  would  of  itself 
have  been  sufficient  to  fill  me  on  the  instant  with 
new  cheer.  She  had  sunk  far  down  into  the 
mossy  seat,  and,  resting  on  her  elbow,  her  face 
partly  covered  by  her  hand,  she  was  gazing  in- 
tently as  in  a  reverie,  far  adown  the  village  and 
the  scenes  we  had  left  behind. 

Such  was  the  tortuous  winding  of  the  road, 
that,  as  I  approached  from  the  opposite  direction, 
she  did  not  perceive  my  presence  till  aroused  by 
the  sound  of  my  steps.  Turning  then,  she  saw 

30 


OF  MARTI GNY 

me  not  six  paces  from  her  and  cried,  in  a  cheery 
and  almost  playful  tone,  at  which  I  was  sur- 
prised : 

"  EC co  il  mio  vagabondo  !  "  [Ah,  my  runaway]. 

Tear-marks  were  still  on  her  cheeks  ;  nor  had 
the  moisture,  from  disappointment,  anger,  and 
shame,  yet  left  the  corners  of  my  own  eyes.  She 
quickly  rose  and  partially  extended  her  hand.  It 
may  have  been  only  an  unconscious  gesture  of 
surprise  or  enquiry,  but  I  seized  and  pressed  it 
with  the  ardor  of  a  sympathy  as  powerful  as  any 
other  that  ever  touched  my  heart. 

The  mystery  of  my  losing  her  on  so  direct  a 
route,  which  had  been  to  me  so  strange  and  so 
annoying,  was  soon  explained. 

She  had  hurried  on  and  retired  into  this  se- 
cluded nook  to  eat  her  slight  luncheon  and  drink 
of  the  ice-water  that  trickled  from  a  neighboring 
glacier  into  the  little  cup  which  she  carried  in  her 
pocket  and  still  held  in  her  hand.  There  were, 
indeed,  other  reasons,  faintly  adumbrated  in  her 
song,  why  she  chose  to  command  the  spot,  for  a 
time,  alone.  Fatigued  and  heated,  she  reclined 
upon  the  mossy  bank  and  unexpectedly  fell 
asleep.  During  her  slumber  I  passed  unobserv- 
ing  and  of  course  unobserved.  Awaking,  as  she 
supposed,  from  a  momentary  forgetfulness,  she 
still  awaited  my  coming,  but  wondering  and  un- 

31 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

certain  at  my  delay,  was  on  the  point  of  going  on 
without  me. 

She  resumed  her  seat  and  I  sat  down  near  her 
on  the  same  natural  sofa.  Presently  she  looked 
up  wistfully  into  my  face  and  said  : 

"Ella  t  inglese?"  [The  gentleman  is  English]. 

I  noticed,  now  for  the  third  time,  that  when 
taken  by  surprise  or  carried  off  her  guard  by  ex- 
cited feelings,  she  spoke  in  Italian,  as  if  that  were 
her  vernacular  ;  and  from  this  I  was  more  than 
ever  convinced  that  she  was  at  least  of  Italian 
stock.  With  a  view  to  furthering  my  own  pur- 
pose, therefore,  of  drawing  as  deeply  as  possible 
on  the  secrets  of  her  heart,  from  this  time  on,  I 
used  French  no  more,  but  spoke  only  in  the  lan- 
guage of  Italy  to  her.  She,  too  (but  without 
seeming  to  observe  the  change),  thereafter  spoke 
to  me  only  in  Italian.  To  her  question  I  re- 
plied: 

"Yes,  Signorina,  and  no." 

"  E  dunque  americano  !  "  [He  is  American,  then]. 

"Yes,  Signorma." 

"  Ah,  America,  terra  fortunata  !  "  [fortunate  coun- 
try]. "  I  have  heard  that  the  people  are  happy 
there." 

I  toyed  with  her  remark  a  little  with  the  view 
of  drawing  her  out  upon  the  Great  Republic.  I 
found  the  "  American  idea  "  in  full  force  in  her 

32 


OF  MARTIGNY 

soul.  The  "happy  country  beyond  the  sea" 
seemed  to  her  not  much  less  than  actually  "  flow- 
ing with  milk  and  honey."  She  had  seen  letters 
telling  of  the  great  wages  received  for  labor 
there,  and  describing  the  dainty  food,  "white 
bread  and  flesh  meat  had  every  day,"  and  the 
nice  clothing  common  to  everybody  there,  such 
as  "  the  peasantry  of  the  old  country  could  never 
dream  of  possessing  for  one  day  of  their  lives." 

To  be  sure,  she  said  the  letters  might  be  ro- 
mancing, more  or  less,  but  she  had  herself  seen 
such-a-one,  returned  on  a  visit,  who  came  "in 
a  hat  alia  moda  and  a  silk  gown  and  shoes  and 
gloves,  like  a  lady."  Such-a-one  had  told  her 
that  she  had,  besides,  a  great  m.z.ny  fiorini  saved 
up  in  the  Cassa  di  risparmio  [Savings  Bank]. 

At  last  I  replied :  "  Mia  amichina  [my  little 
friend],  sorrow  is  everywhere." 

"  Yes,  I  know  that  must  be  so  ;  but  is  it  not 
delightful  to  live  in  a  country  where  the  people 
choose  their  rulers,  and  make  their  own  laws,  and 
do  in  every  way  what  they  like  ? " 

"  Doing  what  they  like,  Signorina  —  whether  it 
would  be  the  best  thing  or  not  —  is  not  quite  true 
of  America  ;  and  the  science  of  good  government 
everywhere  is  a  very  difficult  one.  The  selfish- 
ness and  the  passions  of  men  are  hard  to  manage. 
And  worst  of  all,  it  seems  impossible  to  tell  what 

33 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

the  result  will  be  of  any  combination  of  political 
forces  until  it  has  been  tried,  and  — 

"  And  it  may  be  too  late  to  mend  it  then." 

"  Not  quite  so,  Signorina,  but  the  old  govern- 
ments have  been  tried  for  so  long  that  their  faults 
are  well  known  ;  and  I  must  add  their  advantages 
also " 

"Advantages  ? "  she  interrupted,  with  an  incred- 
ulous tone,  almost  a  sneer. 

"  Yes,  strength,  in  itself,  as  far  as  it  goes,  is  an 
advantage." 

"  'As  far  as  it  goes'  —  yes,  if  it  does  not  go  too 
far  .  .  .  and  goes  in  the  right  direction,"  she  said, 
now  mournfully. 

"  Perfection  of  administration  is  an  advantage 
—  a  great  advantage  —  the  certain  execution  of 
the  laws " 

"  No  matter  how  oppressive  ?  "  she  interrupted 
again,  with  a  sigh. 

"  Nobility  has  a  certain  advantage,  both  as  a 
standard  of  taste  and  living  for  the  lower  orders, 
and  as  a  glittering  prize  permanently  held  out 
to  extraordinary  heroism,  or  superlative  benefit 
wrought  for  the  country,  or  for  humanity  at 
large." 

"  Yes,  high  and  permanent  examples  !  .  .  .  not 
seldom,  of  flunkeyism  in  procuring  and  of  base 
living  afterwards,"  she  added,  almost  fiercely. 

34 


OF  MARTIGNY 

"  Painful  exceptions  must  occur  in  all  human 
combinations.  A  fly  will  be  found  in  the  sweet- 
est ointment." 

"  Alas  for  humanity! "  she  groaned,  twirling 
her  hat  on  her  thumb. 

"  The  largest  and  most  inspiring  patronage  of 
the  fine  arts,  is  a  very  notable  advantage.  Your 
glorious  galleries  in  Europe  are  the  fruit  of  ages 
of  monarchical  government.  Under  republican 
institutions  as  they  exist  to-day,  these,  it  is  by 
no  means  likely,  would  ever  have  come  into 
being." 

"  Exactly,  be  it  so.  Is,  then,  the  profit  worth 
the  cost  ? " 

"  We  are  only  naming  facts,  Signorina,  not  de- 
ciding values." 

"  Is  n't  liberty  worth  every  cost  ? " 

"  I  think  you  mean  home-rule  for  Italy,"  I  said, 
somewhat  nettled  at  the  turn  she  had  given  the 
conversation. 

"Yes,  that  is  what  I  mean,  appunto"  [exactly]. 

"  Then  I  think  it  is,  properly  limited  and  made 
permanent." 

She  repeated  my  last  words,  and  in  an  almost 
peppery  tone,  said  :  "  Why  do  you  distinguish  so 
against  Italy  as  compared  with  America  ? " 

"  I  do  not  mean  to  disparage,  nor  predict,  but 
Italy  gives  me  the  history  of  ages  to  judge  from. 

35 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

America  has  no  past.  Our  present  is  fairly  satis- 
factory. We  cannot  say  that  there  are  not  clouds 
hanging  about  in  several  quarters  of  our  political 
horizon,  yet  the  promise  of  the  future  seems 
bright." 

"  All  good  men  hope  so,  Signore." 

"  We  believe  it,  Signorina.  But  we  may  be  mis- 
taken. We  are  still  an  experiment." 

"  At  all  events,  you  have  not  and  need  not  the 
dreadful  army  there." 

"  True,  there  is  nothing  like  the  great  armies 
of  Europe  there  —  the  registration,  the  conscrip- 
tion, the  garrison-duty,  the  manoeuvres,  the  camp 
service." 

"  And  the  people  are  safe  enough  without  all 
this  wretched,  wretched  thing?"  she  asked  in  a 
tone  of  heart-broken  despair. 

"  The  ocean  is,  to  be  sure,  a  certain  protection 
for  us  against  foreign  foes." 

"  And  the  people  have  n't  to  be  kept  down  with 
bayonets  ? " 

"  Not  yet,  Signorina." 

"  O  happy  people !  What  good  luck  to  have 
been  born  there !  How  contented  the  young 
women  must  be  who  have  true  lovers  there ! " 

"  I  have  no  doubt  they  are.  They  ought  to  be. 
But  will  you  not  tell  me  that  story  now  ? " 

"  Let  us  go  on,"  she  said,  rising  and  moving 

36 


OF  MARTIGNY 

toward  the  highway.  "  I  could  n't  tell  you  on  that 
seat  and  under  that  rock." 

"That  rock?"  I  said,  doubtfully. 

Looking  timidly  over  her  shoulder,  she  added, 
"That  rock  has  fearful  shadows." 

We  walked  on  then  for  two  or  three  minutes  in 
a  silence  which  I  did  not  venture  to  break,  when 
the  boom  of  an  avalanche  in  the  direction  of  the 
Bernese  Alps,  echoing  ever  softer  and  softer,  as 
it  rebounded  from  mountain-side  to  mountain- 
side, seemed  to  waken  her  from  a  momentary 
reverie,  and  almost  in  a  whisper  she  began  : 

"  I  was  promised  —  or  thought  I  was  —  to  one  I 
loved.  I  was  married  to  him  —  perhaps.  Per- 
haps I  am  a  widow  —  his  widow,  now.  '  Perhaps,' 
I  say,  for  I  do  n't  know  what  I  am  —  or  whether  I 
am  anything  to  him  —  or  ever  was." 

Here  she  paused  as  if  she  would  say  no  more. 

"You  do  not  explain,"  I  said;  "you  do  but  in- 
crease the  mystery." 

She  stopped,  and  turning,  pointed  backward 
and  rejoined  in  that  strange  voice  of  hers,  soft, 
sweetly  mournful,  yet  deeply  thrilling  :  "  Ecco, 
[see]  the  shadow  of  that  rock  lies  there,  like  a 
solid  thing,  on  the  ground,  though  it  is  n't  any- 
thing. That  shadow  is  n't  anything,  yet  all  the 
same  it's  there.  It  is  n't  a  mistake,  nor  a  dream. 
It's  real  —  you  know  that — you  feel  that — though 

37 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

it  is  n't  anything  after  all.  You  move  about 
on  the  same  ground  as  if  it  were  n't  there  ;  yet 
its  chill  may  go  into  you  and  make  you  shud- 
der, and  its  dark  silence  may  make  you  afraid. 
So  my  life  is  in  a  shadow.  I  move  about  in 
a  shadow  —  in  three  shadows.  They  are  like 
what  that  black  bowlder  makes  under  the  sun 
and  under  the  moon  and  under  the  evening 
star." 

Casting  about  for  some  cheerful  remark  that 
might  contribute  toward  quieting  her  disturbed 
feelings  and  disentangling  her  confused  thoughts, 
I  said  : 

"  Is  there  not  much  beautiful  life  in  shadows  — 
even  though  they  are  done  in  monochrome,  and 
black  crayons  at  that?  What  lines  of  beauty, 
what  pleasing  movements,  what  delightful  phan- 
tasmagoria,— from  the  wiry  figures  of  wintry 
boughs  dancing  in  the  moonlight,  to  the  soft 
majesty  of  noonday  clouds  sailing  over  billowy 
grain-fields ! " 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  they  were  once  delightful  to 
me,  but  they  are  so  no  longer.  They  are  sad  and 
painful — only  sad  and  painful  to  me  now." 

"Yet,  you  linger  among  them." 

"  It  is  so.  On  the  bright  summer  Sunday  after- 
noons I  come  and  sit  there.  I  sit  there  and  shud- 
der and  weep,  till  the  shadow  of  the  rock  grows 

38 


OF  MARTIGNY 

with  the  slanting  rays  and  finally  becomes  one 
with  the  shadow  of  the  mountain. 

"  Often  and  often  of  a  summer  evening  while 
the  moon  was  sailing  clear  down  the  valley,  I 
have  been  sitting  there  within  the  gray,  weird 
outline,  musing  mournfully,  till  the  approach  of 
the  deeper  darkness  drove  me  home. 

"  And  often,  in  the  moonless  twilight,  when  I 
knew  that  the  evening  star  was  drawing  the 
shadow-pictures  of  ten  thousand  happy  lovers, 
I  have  been  there  within  the  faint  rock-figure, 
talking  tenderly  to  my  lonely  heart,  till  the  star 
of  love  has  sunk  behind  the  snowy  mountain-top. 

"  And  then  I  wonder  —  I  wonder  if,  perhaps  — 
perhaps  —  for  they  say  these  stars  are  worlds,  too 
— if,  perhaps,  there  are  heart-broken  ones  there 
—  if  we  could  see  and  hear  their  tears  and  sighs." 

"  Would  it  comfort  you  to  think  so  ? "  I  asked. 

"Perhaps  it  would,"  she  replied,  "but  I  should 
be  almost  ashamed  of  it,  if  it  were  so.  I  never 
thought  of  it  in  that  way  before." 

"  You  would  not  be  alone,"  I  said,  "  in  that.  I 
have  had  the  same  longing,  as  I  have  gazed  up- 
ward and  seen  these  beautiful  orbs  looking  always 
so  serenely  down  on  me." 

I  had  in  mind  a  strain  which  I  had  origi- 
nally composed  in  my  own  vernacular,  and  after- 
ward, though  long  before,  turned  into  Italian 

39 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

and  then  recited,  appearing  to  her,  I  suppose,  to 
be  improvising  : 

I  saw  the  Star  of  even 

Sail  down  the  paling  west 
And  from  the  verge  of  heaven 

Drop  to  her  silent  rest. 

How  peaceful  moved  she  through 

The  soft,  decaying  light, 
How  lovely,  pure,  and  true 

She  looked  her  sweet  "  Good-night !  " 

Doth  thus  our  planet  move 

Through  the  high  walks  of  space  ? 

Is  thus  unmingled  love 
Still  mirrored  on  her  face? 

Do  the  still  spaces  bar 

The  sounds  of  human  woe, 
Doth  Earth  shine  soft  afar 

As  stars  shine  here  below  ? 

Ah,  silent,  silver  orb, 

Sailing  in  peace  along, 
Doth  naught  but  joy  absorb 

Your  happy  nations'  song  ? 

"How  beautiful  to  think  so,"  she  said,  "and  if 
it  be  true  —  what  Dante  in  the  Vision  says  " 
here  she  recited,  in  a  soft  swift  monotone,  a 
dozen  lines  from  the  Paradiso  about  PICCARDA, 
happy  in  the  Moon  —  "  but  we  are  still  here  and 
the  gloom  is  so  sad." 

"  Fanciulla  carina  "  [dear  little  maiden],  I  said, 
40 


OF  MARTIGNY 

"  if  these  earthly  shadows  are  so  painful  to  you, 
why  look  at  them,  or  even  go  where  they  lie  ? " 

"  Ah,  that,  that  is  the  great  misfortune  of  it," 
she  replied.  "  The  explanation  is  not  to  be  told 
in  a  word  ;  and  I  fear  you  would  think  me  weak 
or  mad.  But " 

Suddenly  stopping  and  looking  up  again  wist- 
fully into  my  face,  she  added  : 

"  Tell  me  more  about  America  beatissima  [most 
blessed  America].  Are  there  no  such  crazed,  or 
foolish,  broken-hearted  there  ?  —  who " 

"  No,  mia  buonina  "  [my  good  little  creature],  I 
interrupted,  "  I  do  not,  cannot  think  you  mad,  or 
despise  your  grief.  I,  too,  have  been  touched  by 
the  finger  of  the  dark  angel.  I  have  been  robbed 
of  the  being  dearest  to  me  in  all  the  world." 

"  Tell  me  about  it,  Signore.  Tell  me  how  it 
happened." 

I  did  not  fail  to  observe  that  she  was  always 
postponing  her  own  history,  while  endeavoring  to 
draw  out  mine,  or  filling  up  the  time  with  matters 
of  far  less  interest  to  me.  But  I  felt  that  the 
recital  of  my  own  sorrow,  however  painful  to 
me,  would  be  short,  and  that  in  my  own  inter- 
est it  would  be  wisest  to  follow  her  humor.  I 
therefore  yielded  and  began  : 

"  I  did  not  see  her  fade  in  my  arms,  like  a  wilt- 
ing flower.  I  did  not  hear  her  whisper  in  my 

41 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

ear  a  last  'adieu.'  She  did  not  give  me  a  parting 
look  of  love,  ere  I  closed  her  eyes  forever.  To 
my  burning  kiss  her  lips  did  not  respond." 

"  Alas  !  how  was  it,  then? "  she  softly  sighed. 

"  I  led  her  to  the  altar  in  angelic  beauty.  The 
happy  march  which  was  to  introduce  us  to  the 
supreme  felicity  of  earth  closed  its  rapturous 
measures  in  one  long,  delicious  wave  of  melody. 
Twice  our  hands  were  joined  by  the  holy  man. 
I  feel  the  thrill  this  moment  still.  Her  sweet 
voice  made  herself  my  own.  I  set  the  ring,  sign 
and  seal  of  our  unending  union,  with  ecstasy,  on 
her  fair  finger.  How  soft  and  snowy- white  it  was ! 
How  glad  and  proud  I  was  to  bestow  on  her  all 
on  earth  I  had  to  bestow  !  We  knelt  for  prayer 
and  for  the  blessing  of  the  man  of  God.  Our 
heads  were  bowed  upon  the  consecrated  rail. 
The  last  '  amen '  was  said,  and  all  was  still  —  ah, 
yes,  how  still  it  was !  I  feel  that  stillness  yet. 

"She  did  not  rise.  She  did  not  move,  and 
seemed  at  prayer.  The  priest  stood  motionless 
with  closed  book,  and  eyes  raised  to  heaven.  The 
company  waited  in  patient  love  for  the  dear  girl 
to  finish  her  virgin  orisons.  Alas !  they  were 
already  finished  forever.  The  friends  around  her 
became  sensibly  disturbed.  The  assembly  began 
to  rustle.  Every  instant  augmented  the  painful 
suspense. 

42 


OF  MARTIGNY 

"  At  last  I  stooped  to  lay  on  her  lips  the  bridal 
kiss.  Her  lovely  form  sank  gently  upon  my 
bosom  ;  but,  when  my  lips  met  hers,  I  perceived 
that  they  did  not  move  ;  and  they  never  moved 
again.  Her  heavenly  eyes  were  closed,  and  they 
never  again  were  opened.  Her  dear  bosom  rose 
and  fell  no  longer.  Her  sweet  breath  had  fled. 
Her  pulse  was  still.  No  heart-throb  fell  upon 
my  bosom.  Her  angel-life  had  gone  out.  She 
was  in  Paradiso. 

"  But  I  was  here  —  here  alone  —  here  with  her 
dear  but  lifeless  body.  I  saw  nothing  else.  I 
cared  for  nothing  else.  I  bore  it  in  my  arms 
through  the  amazed  and  silent  people.  The  or- 
gan, lately  so  loud  in  triumphant  joy,  and  ready 
for  a  new  triumphant  peal,  began  softly  to  wail 
that  tearful  psalm  : 

Dirige  gressos  meos  ; 

and,  as  we  rolled  so  sadly  homeward,  the  bells, 
chimed  for  a  marriage-peal,  tolled  out  instead  a 
mournful  march  ;  and  the  crows  in  the  tops  of 
the  old  elms  under  which  we  passed,  cawed  down 
upon  my  head  a  funeral  dirge.  At  last  the  dear 
body  was  laid  in  its  deep  bed  under  the  oak  tree 
in  the  old  Campo  Santo,  where,  as  children,  we  sat 
and  pledged  our  love  with  many  a  childish  kiss. 

"The  robins  build  their  nests  overhead  and 
sing  in^the  boughs  as  they  do  here  to-day.  The 

43 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

breeze  roars  softly  in  the  top,  like  the  waves  of 
the  sea  far  away.  Sweet  all  this  was,  while  she 
sat  on  the  sod  at  my  side.  But  can  I  go  there 
now  ?  Can  I  sit  there  alone  ?  No,  indeed,  I  can- 
not. The  sky  seems  so  very  high  and  open.  The 
rattle  of  vehicles  and  the  noises  of  busy  men  dis- 
tress and  frighten  me.  The  roar  in  the  tree-tops 
makes  me  tremble,  as  if  the  world  were  rushing 
to  destruction.  Even  the  birds  seem  now  to  be 
singing  mournful  elegies,  and  the  neighboring 
waterfall  pours  a  perpetual  dirge. 

<(  They  tell  me  that  this  dread  will  pass  away, 
and  that  the  time  will  come  again  when  I  shall 
love  to  revisit  the  spot.  They  tell  me  that  I  shall 
even  find  a  solace  for  my  loneliness  in  lingering 
among  these  buried  memories  and  in  courting 
the  company  of  the  '  empty  shadows,'  as  you  call 
them,  of  my  vanished  joys. 

"  If  this  will  ever  be,  I  know  not ;  but  surely  I 
cannot  bear  them  now.  I  fled  across  the  ocean  to 
escape  from  those  reminders  —  those  duplicators 
of  my  grief.  It  is  for  this  that  I  am  here,  Fanciul- 
lina  [dear  young  lady],  to-day.  My  heart  is  the 
heart  of  a  child  —  a  sorrowful  child.  I  could  n't 
laugh  —  I  could  n't  smile  at  your  sentiments  — 
whatever  they  were.  But  I  can  weep  with  you, 
and  find  comfort  in  your  sympathy ;  and  it  would 
console  me  to  hear  about  your  sorrow." 

44 


OF  MARTIGNY 

"  O,  how  sorrow  makes  us  all  partners ! "  she 
said. 

"  It  is  so,"  I  replied,  "and  on  this  ground  partly 
I  urge  my  claim  to  know  the  secret  of  your  grief." 

"  Perhaps,  then,  you  have  a  certain  right ;  but 
how  can  I  bear  to  speak  aloud  this  sad  history  ? " 

"  How  can  telling  me  make  it  more  sad  to  you?" 

"  Ah,  to  speak  it  aloud  —  to  speak  it  aloud  —  it 
will  make  my  wounded  heart  bleed  again." 

"  Even  so,  perhaps  it  would  go  to  lighten  your 
load,  Poz'erina  "  [poor  little  one]. 

"  May  be  —  may  be,  it  would,"  she  almost  whis- 
pered. 

"  I'm  sure  it  would  ;  and  surely,  it  would  go  to 
console  me." 

"  I  should,  indeed,  be  glad  to  do  that.  But  I 
fear —  "  I  saw  the  suggestion  of  a  shudder  pass 
over  her  frame,  and  interrupted : 

— "Why  should  you  fear?  Would  I  betray  any- 
thing? How  could  I,  if  I  would?  The  ocean 
will  soon  be  rolling  between  us  and  all  our 
affairs." 

"  I  did  n't  mean  that,"  she  replied,  now  with  a 
calm  and  solemn  voice.  "  Duty  and  sin  are 
everywhere  the  same.  May  be  I  was  not  —was 
not  without  blame." 

"We  are  all  human,  Buonina  mia  [my  dear,  good 
girl].  We  all  have  to  be  forgiven  in  heaven. 

45 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

Whatever  it  is,  surely  Maria  Beatissima  will  inter- 
cede. I  will  tell  the  girls  in  America  whom  you 
think  so  happy.  They  will  be  sorry  for  you. 
They  will  pray  to  Our  Lady  for  you." 

This  last  word  proved  to  be  the  "efficient  straw, 
etc."  Did  I  do  wrong  to  say  it  ?  I  did  not  know 
that  one  of  my  female  friends  in  America  prayed 
to  the  Blessed  Virgin  ;  but  I  knew  that  she  did  ; 
and  I  was  carried  away  with  the  desire  to  console 
a  beautiful  young  creature,  sobbing  before  me  in 
heart-breaking  sorrow,  and  pleading  often  in  se- 
cret before  the  aureolated  picture  of  the  ever- 
sympathizing  Madonna. 


LA  MADONNA  SISTINA. 


46 


OF  MARTIGNY 


VI. 

"  Can  the  Ethiopian  change  his  skin  ? 
Or  the  Leopard  his  spots?  " 

BIBLE. 

TREBLING  for  a  rosary  of  scarlet  beads  which 
1  hung  about  her  neck,  and  remaining  silent 
a  few  seconds,  as  if  conversing  with  heaven,  or 
meditating  how  to  arrange  her  thoughts,  she 
started  forward  with  a  slow  and  pensive  step,  and 
entered  upon  the  following  curious  and  pathetic 
history. 

Her  paternal  ancestry,  she  said,  was  Italian  of 
the  Italians  ;  and  as  they  had  good  cause  to  be- 
lieve (not  only  from  certain  physical  peculiarities, 
but  as  well  from  a  line  of  historic  reasons),  even 
Roman  of  the  oldest  stock. 

"My  father,"  she  said,  "is  of  that  tall  and  well- 
shaped  frame  —  as  all  his  ancestors  have  been  — 
which  we  know  is  still  found  in  the  Trastevere  at 
Rome.  He  glories  in,  and  has  taught  us  to  speak 
with  the  Trasteverian  accent  and  to  know  so 
many  of  those  dear  old  words  which  have  come 
down  to  us,  though  we  lived  for  centuries  within 

47 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

the  dukedom  of  Tuscany.  For  our  ancestors 
never  would  bend  their  tongues  away  from  the 
masculine  language  of  their  fathers  to  babble  in 
the  lady-speech  of  Florence.  So  that  I  can  have 
no  doubt  that  the  blood  of  one  or  more  of  the 
stolen  Sabine  wives  flows  in  my  veins." 

She  went  on  explaining  that  during  the  perpet- 
ual political  convulsions  which  kept  poor  Italy 
in  ceaseless  commotion  throughout  the  middle 
centuries,  when,  too,  the  fearful  names  of  Attila 
and  of  Caesar  Borgia  mingled  terribly  with  the 
sad  traditions  of  the  family,  political  dangers  — 
for,  at  that  time,  they  were  of  equestrian  rank, 
and  so  exposed  to  all  the  buffets  of  civil  strife  — 
drove  them,  stripped  of  nearly  all  but  their  lives, 
from  their  hereditary  domicil  in  Umbria,  on  the 
sunny  banks  of  the  Anio,  to  the  vine-clad  hills  of 
Tuscany.  Here,  ousted  from  official  life,  yet,  in 
the  culture  of  the  vine  and  through  commerce  in 
wines,  for  hundreds  of  years  they  greatly  pros- 
pered and  acquired  considerable  Tuscan  estates. 

"  But,"  she  said,  "having  espoused  the  losing  side 
of  the  Medicean  quarrel  —  for  the  unquenchable 
flame  of  the  Roman  and  especially  of  the  Tras- 
teverian  passion  for  liberta  has  always  been  the 
undermining  influence  upon  the  worldly  fortunes 
of  our  family — they  were  glad  to  escape  from 
suspicion  and  arrest,  from  the  prison,  the  torture, 

48 


OF  MARTIGNY 

the  gallows,  and  leaving  almost  everything  to  be 
confiscated  behind,  to  come  with  their  lives  and  a 
scanty  property  to  the  valleys  of  Lombardia  —  still, 
though  in  a  less  notable  degree,  dealing  with  the 
vine.  But,  when  in  Babbos  [papa's]  early  days 
the  Austrian  tyranny  there  became  so  accursed 
and  diabolical,  his  Roman  Trasteverian  blood 
could  endure  it  no  longer,  and  he  fled  with  his 
wife  and  almost  empty  hands  to  these  bleak  but 
free  Alpine  cliffs  and  valleys. 

"  So,  moving  ever  northward,  from  under  the 
very  walls  of  the  Eternal  City,  and  from  Magis- 
tracies with  landed  estates  in  Umbria,  we  came  to 
be  movers  of  commerce  and  vine-dressers  in  Tos- 
cana  and  Lombardia,  and  finally,  from  desperate 
necessity,  mountain-shepherds  here." 

"  It  must  have  been  dreadful  tyranny,"  I  said, 
"  to  drive  your  proud  ancestry  to  make  such  sac- 
rifices of  rank  and  property  in  such  a  descending 
scale  for  themselves  and  the  prospects  of  their 
posterity." 

"  It  was,  it  was,  indeed,"  she  said,  "  and  I  am 
not  sure  whether  it  were  greatest  (considering 
the  general  rudeness  of  the  earlier  times)  in  the 
days  of  the  Guelfs  and  Ghibelines,  the  Neri  and 
Bianchi,  the  Piagnoni  and  Palleschi*  etc.,  through 
all  the  sad  ages  of  poor  Italia 's  history,  or  in 
comparatively  recent  years." 

49 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

"The  world  well  knows,"  I  said,  "that  the  Aus- 
trian rule  in  Lombardy  has  always  been  severe. 
The  gentle  Silvio  Pellico  has  given  us  a  blood- 
curdling specimen  of  it  in  his  Le  Mie  Prigwni." 

"  Ah,  do  you  know  that  ? "  she  said,  "  but  what 
would  you  think  if  I  should  tell  you  that  in  the 
days  of  Babbos  flight  hither,  not  only  men  were 
so  treated,  but  the  infamous  Austrian  had  come, 
not  seldom,  to  use  the  rod  upon  the  naked  backs 
of  reputable  ladies  who  were  guilty  of  nothing 
beyond  entertaining  and  speaking  sentiments  of 
generous  and  honorable  patriotism  !  " 

"  I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing,"  I  said. 

"  I  will  give  you,  then,  an  instance,  if  you  care 
to  have  me  do  it." 

"  I  should  be  desirous,  yet  sorry  to  hear  it,  Sig- 
norina." 

"  Many  are  troppo  brutto  [too  ugly]  to  be  told  of. 
Here  is  one  far  from  being  the  worst  among 
many  of  the  like.  In  Milano  two  young  girls,  one 
a  visiting  Fiorentina  [girl  of  Florence]  of  eighteen 
years,  the  other  a  girl  of  twenty,  from  Cremona, 
were  each  condemned  to  fifteen  stripes  for  hav- 
ing reproached  a  renegade  Italian  female  who 
made  an  ostentatious  display,  in  one  of  the  win- 
dows of  her  apartments,  of  the  colors  of  the  Aus- 
trian flag  —  black  and  yellow. 

"And  when  the  poor  girls  were  brought  out 
so 


OF  MARTIGNY 

into  a  public  square,  stripped  for  punishment, 
and  bound  to  the  whipping-post,  and  while  inno- 
cent patriotism  and  virgin  modesty  were  under- 
going the  shame  and  torture  of  the  executioner's 
strokes,  all  the  proudest  Austrian  society  in 
Mi/a/iff,  from  their  windows  and  carriages,  looked 
on  with  jokes  and  laughter  at  their  fright  and 
screams. 

"And  for  putting  the  greatest  possible  con- 
tempt on  the  Italian  people,  the  Austrian  author- 
ities caused  it  to  be  announced  in  the  newspapers 
that  the  rods  with  which  the  two  girls  were 
whipped  were  bought  in  Vienna,  and,  together 
with  all  the  other  expenses  of  this  wholesome 
and  beautiful  show,  were  to  be  paid  for  by  the 
city  of  Milano" 

I  expressed  the  utmost  horror  and  amazement 
that  such  barbarities  could  happen  and  had  hap- 
pened in  the  heart  of  a  Christian  civilization  and 
within  the  memory  of  men  still  living. 

"  It  was  necessary  that  you  should  know  this," 
she  said,  "  in  order  to  understand  what  I  am  to 
tell  you  of  my  own  history  and  my  fortunes. 
Even  our  name  must  be  explained  to  you  for  the 
same  reason. 

"  During  some  of  those  earlier  centuries  of  our 
Italian  life  (it  is  uncertain  which,  or  where),  one 
of  those  terrific  storms  with  lightning  and  thunder 

51 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

which  occur  in  the  heats  of  late  summer,  burst 
with  unparalleled  suddeness  and  fury  through 
the  valleys  of  the  Appenines. 

"  So  suddenly  did  it  arise  that  our  ancestor  and 
his  young  wife,  who  were  abroad  at  some  dis- 
tance from  their  home,  were  unable  to  gain  any 
more  available  shelter  than  a  shelving  rock,  over 
which  hung  a  clump  of  firs. 

"The  storm  raged  with  violence  for  hours. 
Sheet  after  sheet  of  descending  water,  hurled  by 
the  fitful  gusts,  drenched  and  drenched  again  and 
again  the  forlorn  young  couple.  The  terrible  in- 
tensity of  the  lightning  and  the  terrific  thunder 
threw  the  young  wife  into  paroxysms  of  alarm. 
At  last  the  skies  cleared  and  the  storm  was  for- 
gotten. 

"A  long  time  after,  when  their  eldest  child 
came  to  them,  it  bore  on  its  breast  a  mark 
which  was  thought  to  resemble  a  fir-tree  over- 
hanging a  dark  rock.  The  same  mark  has 
appeared  from  time  to  time  in  successive  gen- 
erations till  now.  According  to  one  tradition 
—  less  credible,  indeed,  than  another  which  has 
been  more  generally  adopted  —  it  was  supposed 
to  be  this  incident  that  suggested  our  family 
name  —  Ombrosini  [shadowy  ones]." 


VII. 

Stat  nominis  umbra. 

((  I T  was  long,  long  ago,"  my  companion  pro- 
1  ceeded,  "  though  many  centuries  later  than 
the  earlier  story.  Milano  was  then  entirely  sur- 
rounded by  the  Naviglio  Grande.  The  suburbs 
beyond  this  artificial  and  navigable  water-course 
were  a  favorite  quarter  for  the  palaces  of  the 
great  nobles.  The  lord  of  Milano  had  a  superb 
villa  outside  the  Porta  Vercellina.  The  gardens  of 
this  villa  were  extraordinary  even  among  the 
surrounding  sumptuousness.  Many  statues  of 
classic  models,  and  many  busts  of  distinguished 
Italians  and  especially  of  Lombard  celebrities 
were  interspersed  among  rare  exotic  trees  and 
stretches  of  forest  curiously  trained  and  trimmed. 
"When  the  famous  Giovanni  Visconti  became 
archbishop  and  lord  of  Milano,  he  summoned  my 
ancestor  and  induced  him  to  leave  his  own 
estates,  which  had  now  become  considerable  in 
Lombardia  and  come  to  the  Milanese  Court  as 
Master  of  the  Park. 

53 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

"  His  name,  in  the  dialect  of  that  region,  is  lost, 
but  —  apparently  from  his  very  brown  complex- 
ion (which  mark  of  southern  descent  had  been 
handed  down  through  so  many  generations) —  in 
Milano  he  was  called  Brunetto. 

"  He  was  a  man  of  great  but  exceedingly 
eccentric  talents.  Perhaps  the  greatest  of  his 
many  oddities,  was  a  passion  for  evening  land- 
scapes, and  his  astonishing  management  of  moon- 
light shadows. 

"The  prince,  charmed  by  his  genius,  entered 
at  length  into  his  plans  and  caused  a  chamber 
which  he  named  //  Teatro  [the  Theatre]  to  be 
elegantly  finished  and  furnished  in  one  of  the 
palace-towers.  The  front  of  this  '  Theatre  '  was 
one  vast  window,  looking  out  upon  a  portion  of 
the  landscape  which  he  called  the  Spettacolo 
[stage]. 

"  Here  and  on  every  side,  nigh  and  far,  accord- 
ing to  designs  furnished  by  Brunetto,  trees  were 
trimmed  into  a  thousand  imitative,  or  beautiful,  or 
wonderful  shapes.  Huge  statues  were  reared  and 
arranged  in  a  thousand  ingenious  ways.  Many 
other  objects,  in  a  great  variety,  were  scattered 
about  apparently,  in  unspeakable  confusion  and 
disorder,  but  really  with  the  strictest  eye  to  effect 
and  in  such  a  way  that  the  tout-ensemble,  under  the 
moonlight,  threw  into  view  from  the  Teatro  a 

54 


OF  MAR  TIG  NY 

stage-full,  in  life-like  shadows,  of  strange  and 
beautiful  figures.  And  as  the  moon  passed 
on,  the  shadowy  actors  moved  and  changed 
positions  and  shapes  in  such  a  way  as  to 
represent  with  striking  effect  many  beautiful, 
terrible,  and  ridiculous  scenes. 

"  These  changes  were  provided  for,  not  only 
during  the  hours  of  a  single  evening,  but  follow- 
ing the  vicissitudes  of  the  moon,  continued  from 
month  to  month,  as  the  successive  seasons  went 
on.  So  that  this  Teatro  in  dumb-show  offered 
a  kind  of  endless  '  season '  of  natural  theatricals. 

"  It  is  said  that  the  great  poet,  Petrarca,  during 
his  long  residence  at  Milarw,  often  witnessed 
these  spectacles  with  great  delight ;  and  when 
Bocaccio  visited  him  there  he  brought  him  to  see 
the  wonderful  show.  But  it  was  after  the  death  of 
Giovanni  and  the  succession  of  his  three  nephews 
to  his  dominions  that  the  fortunes  of  our  ancestor 
rose  to  the  zenith,  and  our  name  became  fixed  in 
the  heraldry  of  our  country. 

"  When  the  elegant  and  learned  Emperor, 
Charles  IV,  came  with  his  Empress  into  Italy  to 
be  crowned  at  Rome,  he  was  for  a  few  days  the 
guest  of  the  three  lords  of  Milano.  On  the  second 
day  after  his  arrival,  he  was  entertained  by  his 
hosts  with  a  review  of  their  troops,  which  passed 
before  him  as  he  sat  in  state  behind  the  great 

55 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

window  of  the  Teatro.  After  dinner  that  even- 
ing, in  the  great  hall,  the  gentlemen  were 
escorted  into  the  Teatro  where  the  ladies  were 
awaiting  them.  The  Emperor  in  some  surprise 
asked  whether  they  would  ride  to  the  play,  or 
whether  perhaps  they  would  walk  through  the 
palace  to  \h.Q  proscenium. 

'We  do  not  go  to  the  play,  your  Majesty/ 
answered  the  lords,  'the  play  comes  to  us  to- 
night.' 

"At  that  moment  all  the  lights  in  the  Teatro 
seemed  to  be  suddenly  extinguished  by  an  invisi- 
ble hand,  except  two  or  three  concealed  tapers, 
which  threw  a  dim  glamour  over  the  company. 
At  the  same  moment  began  as  if  in  the  far  dis- 
tance the  soft  music  of  a  symphony,  and  the 
curtains  slowly  rose  upon  the  shadowy  scenes 
which  were  moving  over  the  snow  (for  it  was 
Christmas-tide),  in  the  vast  Spettacolo.  The  royal 
party,  taken  wholly  by  surprise,  were  wild  with 
excitement.  Even  the  Empress  gave  a  sweet 
little  scream  of  delight,  which  pleased  the  Em- 
peror exceedingly. 

"The  fact  was,  that  Fortune  smiled  on  the 
whole  affair.  Brunetto,  having  received  some 
weeks'  notice  of  the  coming  event,  had  laid  out 
his  utmost  skill,  had,  one  might  truly  say,  out- 
done himself,  in  the  preparation.  Even  the  as- 

56 


OF  MARTIGNY 

tronomers  of  the  University,  in  view  of  the 
unparalleled  honor  of  an  imperial  visit,  had  as- 
sisted him  with  the  nicest  calculations  upon  the 
hourly  position,  progress,  and  path  of  the  moon. 
The  night  proved  cloudless.  The  silver  lumi- 
nary was  at  her  full.  The  figures  came  out 
with  extraordinary  distinctness  and  moved  with 
elegance.  The  show  was  an  unparalleled  suc- 
cess. The  Emperor  was  delighted ;  the  Em- 
press was  in  ecstacies. 

"  Brunetto  had  contrived  to  represent  the  whole 
long  line  of  Roman  emperors,  riding  in  chariots, 
and  passing  on  far  away  into  the  distance. 
Charles,  with  his  lovely  Empress,  came  last  of 
all,  surrounded  with  every  possible  sign  of  pomp 
and  glory. 

"  Processions  of  church  dignitaries  and  ecclesi- 
astics of  every  degree,  squadrons  and  columns 
of  military  escorts,  multitudes  of  happy  people 
making  frantic  demonstrations  of  joy,  banners 
waving  from  windows  and  poles,  navies  dressed 
with  innumerable  streamers,  senates  and  courts  of 
law  and  schools  standing  in  rapt  attention  upon 
the  scene,  seemed  to  be  laying  the  world  at  the 
feet  of  the  latest  successor  of  the  Roman  Caesars. 

"  But  the  most  wonderful  feat  of  all  was  the 
putting  of  the  Visconti  coat-of-arms,  in  colossal 
proportions,  at  the  foot  of  the  panoramic  picture, 

3*  57 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

like  a  seal  of  approval,  from  this  powerful  family, 
to  the  succession  of  the  new^  emperor.  This  coat- 
of-arms  was  an  extraordinary  thing,  and  had  been 
adopted  by  the  Visconti  from  a  Saracen  banner, 
taken  by  one  of  their  ancestors  in  Palestine  dur- 
ing the  wars  of  the  first  Crociata.  The  design 
was  an  enormous  serpent  swallowing  a  naked 
child,  with  the  legend  beneath,  DEVORABIT  [it  will 
devour],  which  was  understood  to  be  a  transla- 
tion from  the  Saracen  Cabala,  and  to  indicate  how 
voraciously  and  irresistibly  Time  devours  the 
works  and  the  race  of  men,  who  are  as  helpless 
before  its  power  as  a  new-born  babe. 

"  Gentle  symphonies  had  been  playing  during 
the  successive  views,  till,  as  the  evening  grew 
later  and  the  more  stirring  scenes  appeared,  the 
music  sympathized  with  the  sentiment,  growing 
ever  louder,  harsher,  more  daring,  more  defiant ; 
and,  finally,  as  the  closing  scene  came  brighten- 
ing out,  with  its  fearful  legend,  the  cymbals 
crashed,  the  drums  rolled,  the  trumpets  blared ; 
and  when,  at  the  last  moment,  a  park  of  a  hun- 
dred cannons  was  fired,  and  a  thousand  rockets 
of  every  hue  were  shot  into  the  sky,  the  Empress 
fell  fainting  with  excitement  and  fright  into  the 
arms  of  the  Emperor. 

"This  last  incident  pleased  his  imperial  Maj- 
esty beyond  bounds.  He  called  for  the  artist,  but 

58 


OF  MARTIGNY 

he  could  not  be  found.  During  the  progress  of 
the  spectacle  he  had  occupied  a  conspicuous  seat, 
absorbed  in  the  contemplation  of  his  deploying 
figures.  But  now  he  had  disappeared,  whither 
no  one  knew. 

"  Messengers  were  dispatched  for  him  in  every 
direction.  The  palace  within  was  searched  from 
end  to  end,  in  vain.  It  was  at  last  discovered 
that  somebody  had  seen  him  issue  from  the  pal- 
ace and  enter  one  of  the  serpentine  walks  which 
led  toward  the  Spettacolo. 

"  Lanterns  soon  glistened  along  every  alley, 
lane,  and  walk ;  for  the  moon  had  now  set,  and 
comparative  darkness  had  settled  over  the  witch- 
ery of  the  scene.  Each  exploring  party  carried  a 
horn  to  be  sounded  on  a  discovery  of  the  lost 
manager.  The  lights  were  long  seen  from  the 
Teatro,  flitting  to  and  fro,  and  winding  along  the 
labyrinthian  passages.  At  last  the  horn  sounded 
at  some  point  near  the  middle  of  the  Spettacolo. 
The  manager  was  found  wandering  among  the 
figures,  passing  in  front  of  one  and  another,  mur- 
muring now  a  word  of  compliment,  now  an  ex- 
pression of  mortification  or  reproof,  such  as  : 

" '  Ah,  Juno,  you  stood  every  inch  a  queen.  I 
was  proud  of  you.  His  Majesty,  too,  I  could  see 
that  he  was  impressed  by  you.  Well,  Venus, 
there's  nothing  to  be  said  about  you.  The  men 

59 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

stared  at  you  finely.  You  always  touch  the  blood. 
You,  too,  Psyche,  and  Daphne,  and  all  you  girls 
there  —  you  were  ravishing.  Socrates,  what  made 
you  keep  so  much  in  the  dark  to-night  ?  Plato, 
and  even  Alcibiades,  quite  overshadowed  you. 
O  Hannibal !  there  in  the  swamp,  how  is  your 
eye  to-night?  I  thought  you  seemed  uneasy, 
but  perhaps  it  was  the  waving  of  that  swamp- 
willow  over  your  head.  By  Jingo  !  Julius  Csesar, 
what  ailed  your  horse's  tail?  I'll  have  those 
grooms  beheaded,  if  that  occurs  again.  And  you, 
Commodus,  how  could  you  break  that  chariot- 
wheel  ?  It  must  be  repaired  at  once.  You  Ce- 
dar of  Lebanon  up  there,  why  didn't  you  nod 
lower  when  the  Emperor  went  by?  We'll  trim 
your  hair  for  you,  to-morrow.' 

"  Rapt  in  his  reveries,  he  did  not  seem  to  doubt 
that  the  statues  and  trees  heard  and  understood 
his  words ;  nor  did  he  observe  the  approach  of 
the  messengers  till  they  took  him  by  the  hand  and 
began  to  lead  him  back  to  the  palace. 

"When  the  story  was  told  there  with  great  glee, 
and  naturally  created  more  or  less  laughter  among 
the  spectators,  the  dazed  manager  not  even  then 
comprehended  the  true  source  of  the  merri- 
ment ;  but,  attributing  it  to  some  comic  failure 
of  the  spectacle,  he  approached  the  Emperor 
with  a  countenance  grave  even  to  sadness,  and 

60 


knelt  before  him,  with  eyes  cast  down  like  a 
culprit  awaiting  the  sentence  of  his  judge. 

"  But,  at  a  signal  from  the  Emperor,  there  was 
a  flourish  of  trumpets.  Then  came  a  discharge 
of  the  whole  park  of  artillery  at  once,  which 
shook  the  palace  again ;  and  again  the  ladies, 
headed  by  the  Empress,  uttered  a  little  scream. 
Then  the  Emperor  arose,  and,  receiving  from 
an  officer  of  the  Court  a  sword  with  trappings, 
which  had  been  provided  for  the  purpose,  gently 
tapped  with  it  the  cheek  of  the  kneeling  mana- 
ger, saying,  'Arise,  Signer e  Coiite  de  Ombrosini.' 
Then,  as  the  new  Count  arose,  the  Emperor 
threw  the  trappings  over  his  shoulder,  and  or- 
dered the  patent  of  nobility  to  issue,  and  that 
the  crest  should  be  'a  full  moon  breaking  out 
of  storm-clouds  and  throwing  shadows  into  the 
foreground.'  My  ancestor  then  hardly  awoke, 
as  from  a  dream,  under  the  congratulations  of 
his  friends  ;  and,  dropping  again  on  his  knees, 
returned  his  warmest  thanks  to  the  Emperor. 

"  The  patent  was  issued,  and  has  been  relig- 
iously preserved  and  handed  down.  The  blessed 
parchment  is  still  safe  in  our  cottage.  The  first 
Count'  (Babbo  is  the  thirteenth)  was  given  estates 
near  Vercelli,  which  were  enjoyed  by  many  gener- 
ations of  his  successors. 

"  But,  in  the  troubles  that  followed,  our  family, 
61 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

like  so  many  others,  became  entangled,  our  prop- 
erty was  confiscated,  my  ancestors  were  obliged 
to  flee  and  remain  unknown.  Even  our  shadowy 
name  was  for  long  concealed,  for,  to  reveal  it  in 
Lombardia  or  in  Toscana,  would  have  cost  the  head 
of  the  family  his  life,  or  a  lifelong  imprisonment. 
It  is  safe  this  side  the  boundary,  and  Babbo  has 
revived  it. 

"  In  this  way  we  have  lost  everything  but  our 
name  and  the  memories  and  sentiments  which 
belong  to  it.  Yet  we  are  not  alone,  nor  singular, 
in  this  misfortune.  Higher  and  older  titles  than 
ours  and  not  only  the  estates  but  even  the  names 
to  which  they  belonged  have  been  utterly  lost. 
So  that  among  the  vineyard  and  mountain  peas- 
antry hereabout,  to-day,  flows  blood  that  was  once 
historic,  sunk  now  into  an  everlasting  shadow. 

"Ah,  Signer,  will  you  doubt  it?  There  still 
dwell  in  our  bosoms  the  same  sentiments,  mem- 
ories, and  aspirations  which  enlivened  and 
ennobled  the  lives  of  our  ancestors,  though  we 
have  to  feed  our  bodies  with  these  coarse  nutri- 
ments and  clothe  them  with  these  poor  garments, 
because  and  only  because  from  our  hands  have 
fallen  the  slippery  fortunes  of  their  better  days. 

"  O  Dio  in  cielo !  Where  are  now  the  jewels 
that  glittered  for  centuries  on  the  fair  shoulders 
of  my  great  great  grandmothers  and  their  daugh- 

62 


OF  MARTIGNY 

ters  for  twenty  generations  in  the  palaces  of 
Umbria,  of  Toscana,  of  Lombardia,  and  should  have 
been  the  heirlooms  of  sister  and  me  ?  Where 
are  they  now?  They  are  glittering  on  the  neck 
of  some  English  peeress. 

"  Oh  mia  povera  Italia  sventurata  !  [  Oh  my  poor, 
unfortunate  Italy  !  ]  They  were  offered  on  the 
altar  of  thy  destiny  !  They  were  sold  to  bring 
gold  to  carry  on  the  patriotic  wars  of  thy  enslaved 
sons  and  daughters !  They  were  plundered  in 
thy  defeats  by  foreign  foes  !  They  were  wrested 
from  their  gentle  owners  under  the  torture ! 
They  were  confiscated  in  thy  internecine  con- 
vulsions !  But  O  Italia,  thou  art  mia  Patria  [  my 
fatherland]  still.  I  love  thee,  poor,  fallen,  abused 
as  thou  art.  I  love  thee  as  my  life.  I  adore  thee, 
bella,  bella  Italia  !  "  [beautiful,  beautiful,  Italy]. 

"  No,  no  !  "  I  replied,  "  you  have  retained  much 
more  than  you  claim,  Signorina.  The  witness  of 
those  better  days,  as  you  call  them,  did  not  pass 
away  with  those  jewels.  It  is  written  on  your 
every  feature.  I  could  swear  to  you  that  the 
patent  of  your  nobility  is  engrossed  on  your 
countenance  as  with  an  angel's  pen.  That  pre- 
cious parchment  might  be  lost  or  destroyed,  but 
the  sentiments  indwelling  in  your  soul  —  the 
heritage  of  a  thousand  years  of  noble  lineage  are 
always  visible  and  are  indelible." 

63 


TWIN  SISTERS 

Her  lustrous  black  eyes  flashed  up  in  my 
face  for  an  instant,  and  then  sailed  away  into 
the  distance.  A  soft,  sad  smile  languished  on 
her  lips,  and  she  was  silent. 

With  a  sudden  impulse,  I  struck  up  the  strain, 
America: 

"  My  Country,  'tis  of  thee, 
Sweet  land  of  liberty,  etc.", 

in  the  well-known  Italian  version,  and  after  sing- 
ing one  stanza  ceased. 

She  was  gazing  far  away  as  I  sang,  and  when  I 
stopped,  she  made  me  begin  again,  and  then  her- 
self struck  in.  I  was  at  first  startled  and  won- 
dered at  this.  But  I  instantly  remembered  that 
it  is  also  the  National  Melody  of  Germany,  and 
that  she  must  often  have  heard  it  in  her  home  on 
the  borders  of  Deutschland.  At  all  events,  she 
was  at  home  in  it,  and  the  effect  on  me  was 
electric.  Her  ringing,  sympathetic  voice,  and 
the  peculiar  timbre  of  it,  added  to  her  powerful 
emotion  at  the  moment,  rolled  like  a  rattling 
musical  fusilade  into  the  echoing  stillness  of 
that  vasty  natural  concert-hall,  and  sent  a  thrill 
through  my  whole  frame,  not  unlike  what  I 
have  felt  in  hearing  the  fiery  Marseillaise  sung 
by  a  crowd  of  Lyonese  peasants ;  and  when  the 
last  stanza  was  done,  I  was  left  in  a  kind  of 
confused  and  indescribable  mental  exaltation. 

64 


OF  MARTIGNY 


VIII. 

"  I'll  keep  this  secret  from  the  world, 
As  warily  as  those  that  deal  in  poison, 
Keep  poison  from  their  children." 

WEBSTER  (Duchess  of  Malfy). 

THE  ice  being  now  pretty  thoroughly  broken, 
my  companion  presently  went  on  to  describe 
their  home  on  the  mountain  side,  the  sheep  and 
goat  pens  near  the  house,  the  patches  of  plow- 
fields  scattered  among  the  cliffs,  the  meadows  for 
mown  grass  —  one  a  half-hour  away  on  the  other 
side  of  the  river,  and  one  a  half-hour  further  up 
the  mountain,  on  this  side,  and  called  by  the 
family  the  Alto  Prato  [upper  meadow],  and 
finally,  the  Boschetto  [little-forest]  which  was 
situated  on  the  hillside  in  one  of  the  broken 
valleys  about  an  hour  from  their  home.  The 
family  drew  a  part  of  their  support  from  fire- 
wood which  the  Babbo  cut  there  and  sold  in 
Martigny  and  at  the  Hospice.  The  chips  and 
small  twigs  (what  were  not  made  into  faggots  for 
kindling  and  sold  with  the  large  wood),  and  barks, 
especially  of  the  oaks,  supplied  the  family  fire. 

65 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

Many  knots  of  firs  and  pines  were  shaped  into 
tapers,  for  use  in  the  house;  and  the  bark  of  the 
birches  was  rolled  into  torches  to  be  used  outside 
on  dark  and  stormy  nights  in  winter.  But  per- 
haps the  most  profitable  of  all  were  the  long, 
straight  birchen  twigs  which,  during  the  long 
winter  evenings,  the  Babbo  made  into  brooms  and 
sold,  a  few  in  Martigny,  but  chiefly  in  Aosta, 
whither  he  went  with  several  mule-loads  of  them 
every  spring. 

Her  mother,  she  said,  was  of  a  family  of  simi- 
larly decayed  fortunes  from  Nismes  (as  also  the 
grandmother  had  been),  and  was  a  distant  kins- 
woman of  her  father.  "They  were  many  years 
married  without  children;  but  nineteen  years  ago 
when  the  ground  was  white  with  snow,  on  the 
festa  of  s.  s.  MARIA  AND  MARTHA  a  pair  of  little 
daughters  were  born  to  them;  and  were  chris- 
tened Maria  and  Marta.  I  am  Marta.  People 
thought  the  babies  exactly  alike,  and  could  never 
tell  the  one  from  the  other.  As  we  grew  the 
resemblance  became,  if  possible,  still  more  per- 
fect. Our  size  continued  always  the  same.  Our 
complexion,  hair,  and  eyes  were  of  the  same 
shade.  Our  voices  were  so  perfectly  alike,  that 
out  of  their  sight,  our  parents  never  knew  which 
of  us  was  talking  or  singing. 

"  This  resemblance  was,  of  course,  the  cause  of 

66 


OF  MARTIGNY 

many  entanglements;  and  in  fact  an  insidious 
omen  of  sorrow  yet  to  come.  But  it  gave  us  no 
concern.  We  were  rather  amused  by  the  mis- 
takes occasioned  by  it.  Even  when  one  was 
rewarded  for  a  good  action  done  by  the  other,  or 
punished  for  the  other's  fault,  as  sometimes  hap- 
pened, by  a  tacit  agreement  we  accepted  each 
alike,  without  explanation  and  without  resistance. 
Habit  so  accustomed  us  to  our  lot,  and  we  came 
to  regard  our  affairs  as  so  joined  and  mixed, 
that  we  retained  no  sentiment  of  pain  or  of 
injustice  from  it,  whatever  either  of  us  enjoyed 
or  suffered  on  the  other's  account.  In  short, 
we  seemed  to  ourselves,  as  nearly  as  possible, 
one  being  in  two  bodies. 

"  Besides  all,  as  I  believe  is  not  uncommon  in 
such  cases,  our  natural  resemblance  was  pleasing 
to  our  parents,  and,  instead  of  being  in  any  the 
least  way  opposed,  was  favored  and  completed  by 
them  with  a  studied  similarity  of  dress  and  treat- 
ment. This  natural  and  innocent  turn  of  parental 
love  and  pride  fostered,  however,  our  childish 
folly  to  an  incredible  pitch.  We  could  not  bear, 
nor  be  persuaded  to  allow  anything  pertaining  to 
us  to  differ  in  the  least  particular.  This  exagger- 
ated whim  often  rendered  us  ridiculous,  some- 
times wretched.  We  would,  for  example,  soil 
our  faces,  tear  our  frocks,  bang  our  bonnets,  even 

67 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

scratch  our  hands  or  ankles  —  the  one  by  acci- 
dent, the  other  voluntarily  to  complete  the  corre- 
spondence—  both  undergoing  often,  and  always 
cheerfully,  the  punishment  for  the  fault. 

"  But,  notwithstanding  all,  there  was  a  con- 
cealed difference  between  us,  and  it  was  such 
that  we  could  neither  escape  it,  nor  exchange 
it.  This,  too,  became  the  turning-point  of  my 
fate. 

"I    BORE,    ALAS!     THE    INDELIBLE    FAMILY    MARK 

THE    SO-CALLED    SHADOW    OF    THE    FIR-TREE  !  " 


OF  MARTIGNY 


IX. 


And  night  for  each  must  close  the  cheerful  day, 
The  feet  of  each  must  tread  the  gloomy  way.5 

HORACE. 

^ /""^UR  childish  lives  went  smoothly  enough 
\~s  on  for  the  first  twelve  years.  There 
were  moments  and  hours  of  childhood-grief,  but 
the  causes  were  trivial  and  the  sorrow  was  brief. 
Our  spirits  were  light  and  easily  depressed  ;  but, 
commonly,  a  word  or  a  kiss  would  cure  our 
sadness,  and  a  breath  of  mirth  would  easily  blow 
away  the  flying  cloud  that  was  darkening  our 
little  souls.  We  were  busy  and  petted  and  happy. 
"  So  our  years  flew  by  till  our  thirteenth 
birthday  came.  Our  happiness  had  then  risen 
to  its  zenith.  But  with  it  came  our  first  great 
sorrow.  It  was  winter.  The  whole  ground  was 
white.  There  came  the  /^/0  of  s.  s.  MARIA  AND 
MARTHA — our  festival  day.  We  went  to  Mass  then, 
as  always,  on  that  feast.  This  year  it  fell  on  a 
Sunday,  The  day  was  fine.  The  Bishop  of  Aosta 
was  there.  Maria  and  I  were  then  confirmed ; 

69 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

and,  by  a  special  dispensation,  received  immedi- 
ately our  first  communion.  Dear  Mother  had 
been  preparing  us  ever  since  we  could  read,  and 
we  had  been  ready  and  waiting  since  we  were 
ten  years  old.  But  no  bishop  had  been  at  our 
little  church  for  more  than  four  years.  This 
had  been  a  great  grief  and  constant  anxiety 
to  dear  Mother. 

"  Both  she  and  Babbo  received  the  communion 
also  (as  they  always  did  at  that  fes/a),  and  we  all 
went,  on  Saturday  evening  before,  to  Confession. 
It  was  very  cold  ;  and  dear  Mother  had  toiled 
very  hard  to  get  our  dresses  ready  and  to  make 
a  feast  for  us  at  home.  Oh,  how  happy  we 
were  at  church  that  day,  and  at  our  little  ban- 
quet in  the  afternoon ! 

"When  the  dinner  was  ended,  but  before  we 
rose  from  the  table,  dear  Mother  tapped  gently 
on  her  plate  —  for  sister  and  I  were  in  almost  a 
boisterous  frolic  over  a  funny  picture  on  one  of 
our  presents  and  over  the  queer  inscription  under 
it.  We  instantly  looked  up  into  her  sweet  face 
and  were  still. 

"  Then,  in  her  soft,  lovely  way,  she  began  : 
'  My  dear,  dear  children,  it  is  your  birthday  into 
this  world  of  sin  and  sorrow.  It  was  a  blessing 
to  us  when  you  came.  It  was  a  blessing  to  you 
to  be  born.  It  is  right  to  make  festa  over  it. 

70 


OF  MARTIGNY 

"  '  We  have  delighted  to  feed  your  bodies  with 
the  perishable  bread  of  earth,  which  one  day  you 
will  need  no  longer.  But  to-day  you  have  come 
to  the  table  of  your  Great  Father,  and  been  fed 
with  the  bread  that  came  down  from  heaven, 
which  will  nourish  your  immortal  life  for  ever 
and  ever.  How  should  we  make  festa  over  that ! 
God  and  the  Madonna  be  praised  that  I  have  lived 
to  see  this  day ! '  Then  she  began,  and  we  all 
joined  with  her  in  singing  Ave  Maria.  I  never 
felt  so  happy.  But  we  were  so  near  to  Eternity ! 

"That  night  dear  Mother  was  seized  with  dread- 
ful pains,  in  a  few  hours  became  very  sick,  and 
never  had  her  reason  more.  She  talked  wildly  of 
'  dear,  warm  France,'  and  of  her  girlhood  there ; 
and  said  many  times  to  Babbo,  'Ah,  Jacques*  rame- 
nez-moi  a  ma  belle  France ! '  [Ah,  James,  take  me 
back  to  my  beautiful  France],  and  Babbo  con- 
stantly replied,  '  Sicuro,  sicuro,  M'amie '  [I  will,  I 
will,  my  dear]. 

"In  a  short  week  the  promise  was  fulfilled. 
She  was  carried  to  sleep  with  her  kindred  under 
the  warm  sun  of  her  native  sky.  We  all,  except 
Vigilo  —  he  was  our  great,  dear  sheep-dog  —  went 
with  her  dear  body  to  Nismes  ;  and  we  buried  the 
precious  treasure  there  in  the  Champ  du  repos, 
where  a  long  line  of  her  ancestors  are  sleeping 
by  her  side. 

71 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

"  This  journey  to  Nismes  for  Maria  and  me  was 
the  greatest  event  of  our  lives.  We  had  never 
been  there  ;  but  from  infancy  we  had  heard  so 
much  about  it  both  from  our  dear  Mother  and 
from  Babbo.  For  was  it  not  a  foremost  strong- 
hold of  the  old  Romans  from  the  first  Caesar  on  ? 
And  was  it  not  morally  certain,  then,  that  both 
her  Trasteverian  ancestors  and  his  had  seen  ser- 
vice there  under  the  world-conquering  eagles,  — 
had  marched  over  those  hills  and  through  those 
ravines  with  the  thundering  host  to  the  music  of 
the  trumpet  and  the  horn, —  had  manned  those 
old  fortresses, —  perhaps  led  as  centurions,  or 
tribunes,  or  even  lieutenant-commanders,  those 
old  iron  cohorts  and  legions,  before  the  era  of 
salvation  ? 

"  The  thought  of  it  made  our  child-blood  tingle, 
and  did  something,  even  in  our  dreadful  sorrow, 
to  enliven  the  gloom  of  the  sad  journey.  Dear 
Babbo  availed  of  this  motive  to  the  utmost,  and 
choking  down  his  own  unspeakable  grief,  spoke 
of  every  inspiring  thing  in  this  direction  on 
the  way,  and  planned  to  make  the  visit  yield 
the  most  possible,  both  of  comfort  and  of  life- 
long profit,  to  his  dear  girls.  For,  in  addition 
to  his  tender  parental  love  for  us,  he  never  for 
a  moment  forgot  that  our  heritage  was  noble, 
though  now  enveloped  in  so  deep  a  shadow. 

72 


OF  MARTIGNY 

"  We  arrived  on  the  ninth  day,  and,  approach- 
ing the  city  on  the  southeast  side,  were  in  the 
neighborhood  of  three  convents  —  the  Dames  de 
Besan$on,  the  Dames  de  I '  Assomption,  and  the  Pe- 
tites  Sceurs.  At  the  latter  house  the  family  of  my 
Mother  was  not  unknown.  For  this  and  other 
reasons,  our  Babbo  took  us  there  and  made  known 
the  sorrowful  cause  of  our  pilgrimage. 

"  We  were  tenderly  received  by  the  lady  Supe- 
rior and  the  sisters.  The  dear  body  was  allowed 
to  lie  in  the  Cappella  before  the  high  altar ;  and, 
on  the  morrow,  a  Requiem  Mass,  at  which  all  the 
nuns  assisted,  was  said  by  the  padre  who  was 
charged  with  the  worship  in  the  Convent. 

"  I  had  never  heard  such  sweet  singing  as  was 
done  by  the  choir  of  sisters  in  the  organ-gallery. 
I  have  since  learned  from  travelers  that  such  is 
heard  when  the  nuns  of  the  Dames  du  Sacr/  Coeur 
sing  Vespers  on  Sunday  nights  at  S.  Trinita  de' 
Monti  in  Rome.  But  I  have  never  heard  the  like, 
before  nor  since.  It  seemed  to  waft  our  spirits 
on  the  bosoms  of  angels  into  the  soft  rest  of 
Paradiso,  where  we  hope  the  spirit  of  dear 
Mother  is. 

"  Maria  and  I  were  lodged  in  the  Convent  for 
three  days  and  in  a  room  near  to  that  of  the  lady 
Superior.  It  was  called  a  '  cella  '  [cell] ;  but  as  we 
had  never  been  in  a  nun's  '  cell '  before,  we 

73 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

found  it  a  very  different  room  from  what  we  had 
expected  to  see  when  the  good  abbess  told  us 
with  the  sweetest  tones  that  '  we  should  sleep  in 
Sister  Angelica's  cell.' 

"  The  good  kind  lady  went  on  to  tell  us  —  what 
she  thought  would  at  once  instruct  and  please  us 
—  of  the  good  nun  who  had  lived  and  died  in 
that  '  cell',  fifty  or  a  hundred  years  ago.  But  it 
frightened  us  and  made  our  flesh  creep,  to  hear 
how  that  holy  woman  went  barefoot  and  prayed 
through  the  whole  cold  night  and  fasted  and 
punished  herself  there;  and  when  she  was  dead 
and  her  body  lay  there,  how  the  sick  and  infirm 
people  came  and  touched  it  and  were  made  well 
and  strong;  and  how  it  did  not  decay  and  they 
kept  it  there  many  months,  doing  such  good  work 
for  the  afflicted. 

"When,  after  supper,  and  a  long  pleasant  talk 
in  her  room,  the  abbess  took  a  candle  and  led  the 
way  to  that  '  cell/  I  think  our  young  rosy  faces 
must  have  turned  white,  and  I  know  that  our 
hearts  palpitated  so  that  we  could  hardly  breathe. 
We  followed  her  a  few  steps  along  the  echoing 
cement  pavement  of  the  lofty  corridor,  and  in 
a  moment  she  turned  a  key  that  grated  harshly 
in  the  lock,  and  opened,  slowly  and  carefully  and 
it  seemed  to  us  almost  timidly,  a  great  heavy 
door,  entered  in  the  same  subdued  manner  and 

74 


OF  MARTIGNY 

placed  the  little  twinkling  light  upon  a  high 
mantel-shelf. 

"We  followed  and  stood  in  the  middle  of  the 
'cell,'  looking  about  us  with  astonished  eyes. 
What  did  we  see  ?  —  whip  and  cord  and  hair- 
cloth jacket  ?  —  and  we  did  n't  know  what  other 
instruments  of  dreadful  pain  ? —  such  as  our  terri- 
fied imagination  had  conjured  up?  —  or  even 
coffins  and  corpses  and  skeletons,  the  shadows  of 
which  were  dancing  a  fearful  rout  in  our  fancy  ? 
Not  at  all.  The  opposite  of  all  this. 

"  There  was,  indeed,  heavy  iron  grating  at  the 
two  tall  windows,  so  that  no  one  could  get  out 
or  in,  even  if  they  had  not  been  a  half-dozen 
metri  from  the  ground  on  the  outside;  and  as 
we  could  plainly  see  in  the  clear  moonlight, 
they  looked  out  upon  a  large  garden  which  was 
surrounded  on  all  the  three  sides  by  a  high  and 
smooth  wall.  There  was,  also,  a  very  large,  strong 
lock  on  the  door  —  all  conspiring  to  the  same 
purpose.  But  everything  within  was  peaceful 
and  pleasant  as  the  parlor  of  a  lady. 

"The  room  was  large  and  high.  A  little  fire 
was  burning  in  the  chimney-place;  over  which 
hung  a  beautiful  picture  of  the  Madonna.  Several 
more  large  and  beautiful  pictures  hung  on  the 
walls  around  —  such  as  a  Pieta  [the  dead  body  of 
Jesus  in  the  lap  of  His  Mother  or  the  like],  a 

75 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

martyrdom  of  S.  Antony,  a  Virgin  exposed  to  wild 
beasts,  and  others  which  I  do  not  now  remember. 

"  There  were  many  pieces  of  furniture,  plain 
but  good.  A  carved  writing-desk,  an  armchair 
with  leathern  seat,  a  heavy  chest,  a  square  table, 
a  case  of  book-shelves  full  of  ancient-looking 
books,  a  candle-stand,  a  prie-dieu,  a  footstool,  a 
large  crucifix  on  one  side  of  the  mantel-shelf,  a 
statuette  of  S.  Peter  with  the  crook  and  keys 
on  the  other.  In  the  middle  of  the  shelf,  stood 
a  very  large  wax  candle  in  a  heavy  carved 
candlestick.  All  these  articles  were  of  black 
oak,  as  well  as  the  not  very  broad  bedstead, 
which  stood  in  the  corner  farthest  from  win- 
dows and  door  and  was  hung  around  with  white 
curtains.  On  the  cement  floor  were  several  rugs 
of  thick,  nappy  carpeting  and  sheepskin  mats. 

"The  abbess  saw  us  gazing  around  us  with 
childish  interest,  but  little  divined  the  secret  of 
our  thoughts.  Our  child-idea  of  a  holy  nun's 
cell  —  the  narrow  closet,  the  rough  plank  bed, 
the  wooden  stool,  and  little  else  save  the  imple- 
ments of  bodily  discipline,  compared  strangely 
with  such  a  room  as  this.  We  were  dazed 
with  wonder  to  a  degree,  and  our  faces  no 
doubt  wore  an  expression  to  which  she  attrib- 
uted sentiments  more  exalted  and  devout  than 
had  really  entered  our  minds. 

76 


OF  MARTIGNY 

" '  Yes,  dear  children,'  she  said,  'this  is  indeed  a 
holy  place.  Think  how  many  prayers,  how  many 
self-mortifications,  how  many  painful  but  victori- 
ous penances,  how  many  exalted  and  beautiful 
meditations,  how  many  holy  vows  and  unearthly 
self-consecrations,  have  gone  up  like  a  cloud  of 
sweet  incense  to  the  Saviour's  throne  !  None 
of  the  sisters,  since  Angelica  s  death,  has  been 
judged  or  felt  herself  worthy  to  occupy  this 
room ;  and  it  has  never  been  slept  in  since.' 

"  She  meant  it  kindly,  but  this  view  of  the  case 
made  us  shudder.  Somehow  the  sense  of  being 
the  first  to  sleep  in  the  holy  death-chamber, 
coupled  with  the  constant  memory  of  dear  Moth- 
er's body  passing  the  night  in  the  Cappella,  came 
over  our  sore  hearts  with  such  an  uncanny  power 
at  her  words,  though  spoken  so  gently  and  with 
the  sweetest  tones,  that  Maria  and  I  instinctively 
threw  our  arms  about  each  other's  neck,  and 
burst  into  irrepressible  sobs. 

"  The  face  of  the  good  abbess  showed  that  she 
was  distressed  for  us,  but  she  said  no  more ;  and 
going  to  the  bed,  kissing  each  of  us  tenderly  as 
she  passed,  she  '  made  it  down,'  and  added  a  hun- 
dred little  pats  and  adjustments  to  the  pillows 
and  coverlets.  Then  she  said  sweetly,  '  Blessed 
innocents,  I  am  so  glad  you  are  to  sleep  here.  I 
think  holy  angels  will  hover  over  you  to-night, 

77 


THE    TWIN  SISTEKS 

the  same  that  carried  the  spirit  of  your  dear 
Mother  in  their  bosom  to  Paradiso.  Prepare 
yourselves  for  your  slumbers  quickly.' 

"  While  we  were  obeying,  she  went  to  a  little 
recess  at  the  side  of  the  chimney-piece,  which  we 
had  not  before  observed,  and  taking  from  there 
another  tall  wax  candle,  lighted  it  and  set  it  upon 
the  prie-dieu  near  the  head  of  the  bed.  As  soon 
as  we  were  nicely  between  the  sheets,  she  knelt 
at  the  prie-dieu  and  said  some  beautiful  prayers 
for  dear  Mother  and  for  us. 

"When  she  arose  from  her  knees,  she  said, 
'You  shall  have  this  candle  burning  here,  my 
dears,  during  the  night.  I  shall  lock  the  door,  so 
you  will  be  quite  safe;  and  you  will  hear  the 
footsteps  of  the  watching  sister  in  the  corridor 
as  long  as  you  are  awake.  I  shall  come  to  you 
in  the  morning  before  Ave  Maria'  Then  she 
kissed  us  both  like  a  mother,  drew  the  bed 
curtains  close,  and  went  away.  We  heard  the 
bolt  and  the  footsteps  of  the  watcher,  as  she 
had  told  us,  and  in  a  few  minutes  fell  asleep 
till  she  opened  the  bed  curtains  in  the  morn- 
ing. This  was  repeated  each  of  the  three  nights 
of  our  stay. 

"  In  the  morning,  true  to  her  word,  we  were 
awaked  by  the  loving  abbess  bending  over  us 
and  singing  softly,  Ave  Maria ;  and  we  heard  the 

78 


OF  MARTIGNY 

bells  of  the  convents  and  of  the  churches  in  the 
city  ringing  it  out.  We  ate  at  the  table  with  the 
nuns,  one  of  us  sitting  on  each  side  of  the  abbess, 
who  sat  at  the  head.  She  did  not  speak  to  us 
then,  for  there  was  no  talking  at  the  table,  but 
one  of  the  sisters  read  aloud  from  the  Book  of 
Martyrs. 

"  We  passed  most  of  our  time,  when  not  at  our 
prayers  in  the  Capella  (before  and  after  the  body 
of  dear  Mother  was  carried  away),  in  the  room  of 
the  abbess,  who  was  all  love  and  anxiety  for  us, 
constantly  showing  us  interesting  things  in  the 
house,  and  teaching  us  good  and  important  things 
which  we  did  not  know  before,  both  about  reli- 
gion and  about  the  worldly  life.  In  short,  from 
the  moment  when  she  first  set  her  eyes  upon  us, 
she  was  to  us  like  a  mother  who  has  found  her 
long-lost  children.  We  wondered  greatly  at  this, 
till  one  day,  long  afterwards,  it  was  explained  to 
us.  Then,  alas,  too  late,  how  we  wished  we  had 
known  that  secret  before  ! 

"  Babbo  and  the  animals  found  lodging  with  the 
family  of  the  gardener  of  the  Convent  a  little  fur- 
ther outside  the  boulevard.  But,  though  he  came 
into  the  Convent  but  once,  and  then  only  for  a 
moment  on  our  first  arrival,  yet  he  spent  many 
hours  with  us  outside. 

"The  first  sad  day  was  mostly  passed  in  the 

79 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

Cappella,  after  the  Requiem  Mass,  which  was  said 
early,  in  prayers  and  tears  around  the  bier  on 
which  lay  the  dear,  precious  body  that  we  were 
going  to  put  away  from  our  sight  till  the  resur- 
rection morning. 

"  The  padre  Cappellano  del  Convento  [convent- 
chaplain]  staid  there  with  us  and  would  now  and 
again  say  another  prayer  —  sometimes  for  the 
dead,  sometimes  for  us  children,  sometimes  for 
poor  Babbo.  Oh,  how  dear  Babbo  groaned  and 
wept !  We  staid  on  our  knees  around  the  bier 
a  long,  long  time.  Babbo  trembled  and  seemed 
so  feeble  that  the  sagrestano  [chapel  care-taker] 
brought  us  chairs,  and  we  sat  there  silent  and  so 
sad  till,  as  the  bells  were  pealing  evening  Ave 
Maria,  came  the  Compagnia  della  Misericordia1  to 
bear  away  the  dead. 

"  Maria  and  I  had  never  before  seen  their  snow- 
white  dress,  with  hood  and  veil  of  the  same  which 
covered  them  completely  down  to  their  feet,  with 
only  two  small  holes  for  their  eyes.  They  came 
marching  in  a  column,  like  soldiers,  and  chanting 
the  psalm : 

Miserere  mei  Deus* 

"  Four  of  them,  taking  up  the  bier  and  placing 
the  poles  upon  their  shoulders,  (the  rest,  each 
bearing  a  lighted  wax-candle,  following  in  the 

80 


OF  MARTIGNY 

same  order  as  they  came,)  all  went  off  chanting 
together  to  their  measured  tread  : 

Ostende  nobis  Do  mine.9 

"  Babbo  and  the  padre  followed  to  the  Campo 
Santo  and  saw  the  deposit  made  and  finished  there, 
but  Maria  and  I  took  our  last  look  as  the  proces- 
sion vanished  from  the  door  of  the  Cappella,  and 
returned  to  wait  and  weep  in  the  room  of  the 
abbess. 

"On  the  morrow,  with  the  approbation  and 
advice  of  the  abbess,  although  in  our  over- 
whelming grief  and  melancholy  we  -both  were 
disinclined  to  see  or  think  of  anything  but  the 
memorials  of  our  sorrow,  Babbo  took  us  to  visit 
some  of  the  beautiful  and  wonderful  things  to 
be  seen  in  this  very  remarkable  city  and  its 
environs. 

"  On  the  morning,  then,  of  this  second  day  we 
went  through  splendid  squares  and  passed  foun- 
tains, some  with  ancient  Corinthian  pillars  and 
fragmentary  remains  of  old  Roman  aqueducts, 
and  came  to  the  old  amphitheatre  with  its  very, 
very  high  walls  and  rows  and  rows  of  seats,  where 
they  told  us  more  than  twenty  thousand  people 
could  sit,  and  its  hundreds  of  arches  and  hundreds 
of  exit-gates  —  the  whole  built  of  huge,  unmor- 
tared  rocks,  and  all  as  sound  and  perfect  as  if  the 

81 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

poor  gladiators  had  been  butchering  each  othei 
yesterday  there,  and  the  spectators  had  gone 
home  but  yesternight. 

"We  went  to  the  Maison-carree,  which,  we  were 
told,  was  the  finest  and  best  preserved  of  all  the 
old  Roman  temples  anywhere  now  in  the  world, 
with  its  lofty  steps,  its  Corinthian  columns  fluted 
and  surmounted  by  exquisite  capitals  which,  in 
the  days  of  old  Roman  glory,  stood,  no  doubt,  in 
a  forum  surrounded  by  many  other  edifices  of 
equal  or  greater  splendor  now  gone  forever. 

"We  went  to  the  Temple  of  Diana,  with  its 
arches  and  vaults  and  corridors  and  niches,  filled 
now  with  sculptures  and  antiquities  found  there, 
and  surrounded  by  ruins  of  aqueduct  and  reser- 
voir of  which  old  Julius  and  his  horses  must  have 
drank. 

"We  went  to  the  Tour  Magne,  the  old,  old, 
octagonal  Roman  ruin,  built  for  a  mausoleum, 
and  twice  as  lofty  still  as  Cczcilia  Metella's  on  the 
Appian  Way  —  but,  by  whom  and  for  whom  was 
it  built  ?  What  thoughts  it  awaked  in  our  child- 
ish souls  ! 

"We  went  to  the  Porte  d'  Auguste  [gate  of 
Augustus]  and  gazed  with  wonder  on  its  two 
large  and  two  small  archways  —  built  in  that 
splendid  reign.  How  many  of  our  dear  moth- 
er's ancestors  had  looked  daily  on  that  same 

82 


OF  MARTIGNY 

sight  for  two  thousand  years !  How  many  of 
Babbos  had  marched  under  it,  clad  in  bright 
armor,  with  shield  and  lance,  in  all  the  pomp 
of  old  Roman  warfare !  And  with  many,  many 
other  such-like  scenes  and  thoughts,  we  passed 
the  day. 

"  On  the  morning  of  our  last  day,  while  Babbo 
went  to  the  Campo  Santo  to  finish  the  last  things 
about  dear  Mother's  grave,  the  kind  abbess  sent 
two  sisters  with  Maria  and  me  to  the  Muse'e  de 
Peinture  to  point  out  to  us  the  more  noted  and 
important  pictures  and  sculptures  and  engrav- 
ings treasured  there. 

"  From  our  books  and  from  Babbo,  we  had 
learned  the  names  of  some  of  the  very  great  art- 
ists of  the  world,  especially  those  of  poor,  dear, 
glorious  Italia.  But  here  with  wonder  and  delight 
we  saw  for  the  first  time,  and  were  dazed  to  think 
we  were  looking  on  the  very  work  of  their  own 
hands.  We  trembled  with  wonder  and  surprise 
before  the  Holy  Family  by  Rubens,  the  S.  Agnes 
by  Tintoretto,  the  Magdalen  by  Guido  Rent,  the 
Christ  in  Gethsemane  by  Correggio,  the  Madonna 
by  Titian  ;  and  I  have  a  more  indistinct  yet  beau- 
tiful memory  of  many,  many  more  which  I  can- 
not name. 

"The  last  hours  of  the  afternoon  of  this  last 
day  we  spent  in  the  Campo  Santo.  The  day  was 

83 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

clear,  and  the  air,  though  it  was  winter,  was  soft 
and  balmy  there.  Babbo  had  erected  at  the  grave's 
head  a  cross  of  wood,  heavy  and  well-lettered. 
We  hung  three  wreaths  of  immortelles  upon  it  — 
one  for  the  love  of  each  of  us. 

"We  spent  much  time  in  prayers  beside  the 
grave.  But  at  last  we  must  go  away  and  leave 
her  alone  —  in  her  own  dear,  'warm  France,'  in- 
deed, but  so  far,  far  away  from  us  whom  she  so 
loved  and  who  loved  her  so. 

"Oh,  the  pang  of  the  last  look!  I  believe 
I  could  never  have  returned,  but  that  I  was 
brought  away  by  Babbo  aided  by  Maria,  whose 
face  was  streaming  with  tears.  I  was  tearless 
with  agony. 

"When  the  abbess  put  us  in  bed  that  night,  she 
lingered  and  kissed  us  over  and  over  again  and 
said  many  prayers,  so  that  we  were  asleep  before 
she  left  us.  In  the  morning  when  Babbo  came  for 
us,  in  saying  '  adieu  '  to  the  abbess  we  saw  how 
his  chin  quivered  and  his  voice  trembled  ;  and 
when  she  embraced  us  for  the  last  time,  her  tears 
dropped  upon  our  cheeks. 

"  It  was  after  dark  on  the  tenth  weary  day  when 
we  arrived  at  our  home  ;  and  dear  Vigilo  was 
crouched  outside  the  door  ready  to  spring  with  a 
howl  of  delight  into  each  of  our  faces,  in  turn." 


OF  MARTIGNY 


X. 


"Nor  last,  forget  the  faithful  dogs  ;  but  feed 
With  fattening  whey  the  Mastiff's  generous  breed, 
And  Spartan  race,  who,  for  the  fold's  relief, 
Will  prosecute  with  cries  the  mighty  thief, 
Repulse  the  prowling  wolf,  and  hold  at  bay 
The  mountain  robbers  rushing  to  their  prey." 

VIRGIL  GEORG.  Dryderis  translation. 

EMEMBER,"  said  my  companion,  "that  if 
1  \  heirs  of  such  ancestors,  and  getting  some 
such  great  opportunites,  yet  Maria  and  I  were  real 
shepherdesses  from  our  birth  —  brought  up  with 
the  flocks,  and  more  intimately  still  with  our  dogs. 
So  that  I  must  say  something  of  these,  since  they 
came  to  play  a  much  larger  part  with  our  own 
destiny  than  with  that  of  the  flocks. 

"The  first  which  I  can  remember  was  dear 
old  Vigilo.  He  was  a  large,  white,  thoroughbred 
Calabrian  sheep-dog,  and  was  always  with  us 
children.  While  we  were  little,  as  soon  as  I  can 
remember,  Mother  used,  in  summer,  to  take  him 
and  us  with  her  to  the  upper  pastures  around  and 
beyond  the  Prati  [meadows]  to  tend  the  sheep 

85 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

during  the  day,  and,  at  nightfall,  he  drove  them 
home.  The  outgo  in  the  morning  was  commonly 
without  difficulty,  but  often  the  return  was  not 
so.  In  fact,  in  this  matter  without  him  we  should 
have  been  helpless. 

"  Babbo,  having  released  our  five  or  six  goats 
with  a  bell  on  the  neck  of  each,  to  take  care  of 
themselves  on  the  rocks  and  steeper  mountain- 
sides during  the  day,  was  busy  with  the  mules 
in  the  fields  or  in  the  forest,  or  in  going  to  the 
markets.  On  our  return,  we  commonly  found 
him  at  home  ready  to  receive  the  sheep ;  and 
while  he  milked  them  (with  mother's  help  and 
often  with  mine),  the  dog  went  after  the  goats. 
They,  especially  if  the  kids  had  been  kept  in  the 
fold,  were  usually  not  very  far  away,  and  in  a 
short  time,  also,  came  trooping  into  their  pen,  to 
be  milked  and  protected  for  the  night." 

Being  much  more  concerned  to  get  on  in  the 
story  than  to  know  the  particulars  about  sheep  or 
goats  or  even  dogs,  I  should  have  felt  impatient 
under  so  many  details,  if  I  had  not  already  seen 
that  she  was  unlikely  to  waste  any  words  on  mat- 
ters not  intimately  connected  with  herself,  and 
necessary  for  understanding  what  else  she  had  to 
say.  But  I  was  not  conscious  of  feeling,  much 
less  of  showing,  any  sign  of  uneasiness  at  the 
drift  of  her  discourse.  Still,  something  of  the 

86 


OF  MARTIGNY 

sort  must  have  appeared  on  my  countenance  or 
in  my  manner ;  for,  stopping  in  the  chain  of  her 
narrative,  she  said  : 

"  It  is  true  that  it  is  a  common  thing  for  Alpine 
shepherds  and  herdsmen  —  more  especially  in  the 
Eastern  Alps,  where  more  cows  are  kept  —  to 
send  away  the  flocks  and  herds,  often  for  a  whole 
summer,  among  the  upper  valleys.  I  have  known 
a  young  girl  like  me  go  with  them,  only  with  a 
a  dog,  and  not  return  from  early  summer  till  the 
the  frosts  and  snows  of  autumn  drove  her  home. 

"  They  build  a  hut  for  her  there,  and  she  milks 
night  and  morning,  and  makes  butter  and  cheese 
during  the  day,  and  pens  the  creatures  at  night. 
Her  brothers,  and  often  other  young  men,  visit 
her  every  week  or  two,  commonly  of  a  Sunday. 
They  go  with  the  mules  and  carry  to  her  loaves 
of  bread,  possibly  some  berries  which  grow  in  the 
lower  valleys,  sometimes  a  jug  of  broth,  or  part 
of  a  boiled  fowl,  or  piece  of  mutton.  They  spend 
the  day  chatting,  helping  her  in  some  bit  of 
heavier  labor,  eating  their  simple  dinner  with  her 
at  noon,  and  at  evening  they  return  carrying 
with  them  the  accumulation  of  butter  and  cheese 
to  be  marketed  by  the  Babbo,  or  added  to  the 
stock  in  the  buttery  at  home." 

— '  But  the  long  week  through ! '  I  could  n't 
help  but  exclaim,  '  and  the  loneliness  ! ' 

87 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

—  "  To  be  sure,"  she  said,  "  if  she  were  a  giddy 
thing,  or  had  nothing  better  than  thinking  her 
own  foolish  thoughts  to  do;  and  even  so,  loneli- 
ness is  but  one  of  the  many  dispiaceri  [unpleasant- 
nesses] that  must  be  endured  in  a  life  of  poverty 
and  toil.  But  work  is  a  great  alleviation  of  it. 
To  be  busy  with  hands  and  thoughts  upon  neces- 
sary or  useful  things  makes  the  hours  fly  swiftly; 
and  to  see  what  has  been  accomplished  at  night- 
fall, or  at  the  week's  end,  to  an  earnest  person  is 
a  great  reward." 

— '  No  doubt  this  is  true,  and  the  remark  does 
you  honor,  Signorina ;  but  still  that  sentiment  is, 
I  think,  not  so  common  among  the  young  as 
among  older  persons,  and  grows  with  our  years.' 

— "  Signore,  you  are  a  man.  Pardon  me,  if  I  tell 
you  that  women,  young  and  old  —  of  course  I 
speak  only  of  those  I  know  —  French  and  Italian 
women  —  are  more  earnest  and  take  life  more 
seriously  than  the  men." 

— '  I  never  thought  of  it  before,  but  a  moment's 
reflection  makes  me  think  you  are  right,  Signorina' 

— "  Si,  Signore,  the  more  you  reflect  on  it,  and  the 
more  you  come  to  know  of  the  Italian  women 
especially,  and  indeed  of  French  women,  too,  the 
more  clearly  and  certainly  you  will  see  that  it  is 
so.  We  have,  alas,  too  many  careless  men,  but 
the  careless  woman  is  an  exception. 

88 


OF  MARTIGNY 

— '  So  far  as  my  knowledge  of  the  people  of 
France  and  of  Italy  goes,  I  believe,  Signorina,  you 
are  right.  But  connected  with  the  loneliness  I 
spoke  of,  there  are  dangers.  What  of  the  wolves  ? 
—  and,  worse  than  all,  of  the  human  .  .  . 

—  "  We  never  knew  or  heard  of  any  bad  acci- 
dent happening  to  such  a  girl  there.  Around  the 
great  sheep-yard  in  which  the  hut  stands  the 
men  make  a  fence  of  rocks  or  logs  meant  to  be 
high  enough  and  strong  enough  to  keep  out 
wolves  and  robbers  at  night.  At  all  events,  the 
dog  will  give  notice  of  their  coming,  and  she  has 
a  gun  always  loaded  and  a  long  sharp  knife. 
Between  them  the  wolf  does  not  often  come  a 
second  time  for  the  best  of  all  reasons;  and  a 
robber  (if  there  were  any  hereabout)  knows  the 
Italian  woman  too  well  not  to  think  three  times 
before  provoking  her  last  resort. 

"  But  Babbo  did  n't  and  could  n't  use  this  plan. 
Our  Upper  Meadow  was  not  so  far  away  as  to 
make  a  night  stay  necessary.  Then,  our  pastures 
were  small  and  scattered;  so  that  there  was  no 
convenient  common  center  for  them,  and  not  one 
nor  two  huts  would  have  answered  for  them  all. 
Even  otherwise,  Babbo  would  never  have  con- 
sented to  the  exposure.  His  hereditary  pride 
forbade  it. 


89 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 


XL 

"  Go  abroad  to  hear  news  of  home." 

OLD    PROVERB. 

«  A  FTER  four  years,  the  longing  to  revisit 
l\  dear  Mother's  grave  had  become  so  strong 
in  all  our  three  hearts,  that  Babbo  took  us  there. 
It  was  early  in  the  month  of  September.  The 
expense  by  diligence  for  500  chilometri  we  were 
unable  to  bear.  We  went  on  foot,  carrying  the 
greater  part  of  our  food  with  us ;  and  it  was  for 
us  a  nine-days  journey. 

"  We  renewed  the  cross  and  wreaths  and  rebuilt 
the  mound,  and  the  season  now  permitting,  we 
planted  violets  on  it. 

"  It  was  a  great  satisfaction  to  be  there  again 
and  to  do  this.  We  grieved  no  longer  as  children. 
We  knelt  together  around  the  grave  and  recited 
prayers  for  the  repose  of  her  dear  spirit.  Then, 
much  comforted,  though  in  quiet  sadness,  we 
started,  on  the  third  day  after  our  arrival,  upon 
our  return. 

90 


OF  MARTIGXY 

"  But,  beyond  this  mournful  satisfaction,  the 
visit  was  remarkable  for  revealing  some  very 
tender  memories,  and,  to  us  children,  some  very 
interesting  incidents  in  the  lives  of  our  parents, 
of  which  we  had  never  before  heard  ;  and  now 
was  cleared  up  for  us  a  romantic  mystery  which 
had  always  hung  around  the  name  '  Cecilia '  (which 
was  the  second  of  my  baptismal  names,  the  first 
being  that  of  my  Mother),  but,  often  as  we  had 
put  the  question,  never  before  could  we  get  it 
satisfactorily  answered.  Sometimes  dear  Mother 
had  seemed  to  be  beginning  an  explanation,  when 
a  look  from  Babbo  made  her  silent.  Now  we 
heard  it  all,  and  wondered  and  rejoiced  and  pitied 
and  wept. 

"Among  the  changes  which  four  years  had 
wrought  at  the  Convent,  was  the  passing  away  of 
the  abbess  whom  we  learned  to  know,  and  whose 
so  tender  kindness  we  enjoyed  with  wonder  on 
our  former  visit. 

"  She  was  now  lying  in  the  Campo  Santo  and  not 
two  steps  from  dear  Mother's  grave.  It  was,  in 
fact,  the  nearest  available  space  except  that  next 
dear  Mother,  bought  and  reserved  for  Babbo  when 
his  hour  shall  have  come.  And  when  that  shall 
be,  he  will  be  awaiting  the  great  sunrise  with 
dear  Mother  on  his  left  side,  as  they  stood  at  the 
altar,  and  the  good,  kind  abbess  on  his  right. 

91 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

The  abbess  herself  chose  and  secured  this  spot 
for  herself  immediately  after  dear  Mother  had 
been  laid  to  her  last  rest.  The  mound  was  only 
distinguished  now  by  a  frail  cross  marked  in 
black  letters  :  SORELLA  AGATA  [sister  Agatha]. 

"  Our  first  wonder  was  why  she  should  be  laid, 
from  choice,  just  there.  The  next  was  to  see  the 
inscription  in  Italian,  instead  of  the  language  of 
the  country,  and  especially  of  the  Convent.  This 
certainly  showed  that  she  was  of  Italian  blood, 
and  of  a  patriotism  that  could  not  bear  to  be  sepa- 
rated forever  from  her  dear  patria  —  not  even  by 
a  foreign  word  over  her  body  after  her  spirit  was 
in  Paradiso. 

"  But  the  third  and  the  greatest  wonder  of  all 
was  to  see  that  her  departure  —  a  stranger  to  him, 
so  far  as  we  knew  —  should  make  our  Babbo  so 
very,  very  sad.  For,  when  he  first  discovered 
the  grave,  he  uncovered  and  bowed  his  dear 
white  head,  and  kneeling  before  that  little  rude 
cross,  whispered  some  prayers  while  big  tears 
ran  across  his  cheeks  and  dropped  upon  the 
ground. 

"  Another  thing  that  we  wondered  at  for  a  mo- 
ment was,  that  there  was  no  date  on  the  cross. 
But  we  presently  remembered  that  on  our  former 
visit,  when  we  happened  to  ask  one  of  the  sisters 
how  long  she  had  been  in  the  convent,  or  how 

Q2 


OF  MAR  TIG  NY 

long  she  had  lived  the  religious  and  secluded  life, 
we  were  astonished  to  hear  her  say  'she  did  not 
know.'  And,  not  daring  to  press  the  question, 
nor  being  willing  to  show  our  surprise  to  the 
good  sister,  we  reserved  our  enquiry  for  our  even- 
ing talk  and  the  teaching  of  the  kind  abbess, 
when  we  should  be  alone  with  her  in  her  room. 

"  Her  answer,  though  it  met  the  case  exactly, 
was  new  and  strange  to  us.  For  she  said  :  '  We 
keep  no  memory  of  years.  These  belong  to  us 
no  longer.  Time  measured  by  sun  and  moon 
with  us  is  no  more.  Our  existence  is  merged  in 
God.  Eternity  with  us  is  begun.  The  past  is 
forgotten  ;  and  there  are  no  mile-posts  on  the 
road  in  the  endless  future.'  '  Grazie a  Dio'  [thank 
God],  she  added,  with  a  soft,  sweet  sigh. 

"  Babbo  also  caused  a  heavy  cross,  exactly  like 
dear  Mother's,  to  be  put  in  place  of  the  frail  board 
that  was  there,  and  to  be  marked  below  the  sister- 
name  : 

Her  name  in  the  world  was 

CECILIA  MARIA  ELIA  ATTILIO. 
Loveliest  of  the  Lo~cely. 

F.  O. 

"  Then  we  wondered  still  more,  and  most  of  all, 
how  he  had  known  her  worldly  name. 

"When  we  returned  to  the  convent  for  the 
night,  the  new  abbess  called  us  to  her  own  room 

93 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

and  conversed  with  us  till  the  early  hour  of  retir- 
ing came.  Her  manner  was  very  gentle,  and  she 
asked  us  many  things  about  both  our  secular  and 
our  religious  life — more  especially,  if  we  had 
ever  contemplated  leaving  the  vanities  and  sins 
of  the  world  and  becoming  religieuses. 

"  She  told  us  then  that  the  late  abbess  had  left 
a  written  request  that,  if  ever  we  came  there 
again  (as  she  expected  one  day  we  would,  to  re- 
visit our  mother's  grave),  we  should  be  received 
'with  especial  kindness  and  consideration.'  These 
were  her  own  words. 

"  The  abbess  thought  from  this  that  perhaps, 
on  our  former  visit,  we  had  talked  with  her  about 
taking  the  vail.  The  more  so,  since  she  had  made 
no  such  request  for  any  others,  though  many  vis- 
ited there  ;  and  even  some  of  these  were  rich. 

"  We  explained  that  we  were  the  stay  and  com- 
fort of  our  Babbo,  most  of  all  since  our  Mother's 
departure  ;  and  frankly  confessed  that  we  hoped 
one  day,  a  great  while  in  the  future,  to  have  hus- 
bands and  children. 

"  To  this  she  replied  with  a  sigh,  '  So  have  many, 
many  before  you,  and  found  the  men  untrue,  and 
themselves  deserted  and  broken-hearted ;  and 
then  fled  from  a  wicked  and  vexing  world  to  a 
pure  and  peaceful  life  of  religion,  and  found  in 
the  Blessed  Saviour  a  lover  who  will  not  deceive, 

94 


OF  MARTIGXY 

and  in  Holy  Church  a  refuge  where  the  misfor- 
tunes of  this  world  cannot  reach. 

'But,'  she  added,  after  a  moment,  with  a  sad 
emphasis,  '  this  life  is  not  for  all  —  alas  !  it  is  not 
suited  for  all.  Be  sure  of  yourselves  —  be  sure, 
mademoiselles,  before  you  leave  all  worldly  hopes 
behind.'  As  she  uttered  these  last  words,  we  saw 
her  lips  quiver  and  tears  twinkle  in  the  corners 
of  her  eyes. 

"  I  saw  tears  standing  in  Maria's  eyes,  and  felt 
them  starting  in  my  own  as  I  looked  into  the 
sweet,  sad  face  of  the  abbess,  and  said  in  my 
thoughts,  'Who  knows  what  heart-sorrow  you 
have  had,  and  whether,  perhaps,  too  late,  you 
found  you  had  mistaken  your  refuge  ? '  But  that 
secret  we  never  knew. 

u  The  third  day  after  our  arrival  we  started 
early  on  our  return.  We  had  left  our  home  on  a 
Monday  and  with  our  utmost  endeavor  had  barely 
reached  Avignon  on  Saturday  evening,  had  been 
lodged  over  the  Sunday  at  the  Convent  de  Su. 
Ursule,  and  had  arrived  at  our  destination  in 
Nismes  on  Monday  evening.  So  that  it  was 
Thursday  when  we  set  out  to  return  and  could 
only  reach  Grenoble  on  Saturday  evening.  We 
found  the  usual  welcome  at  the  Convent  S". 
Marie  and  passed  the  Sunday  there. 

"  Babbo  would  not  under  any  circumstances  less 

95 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

than  imperative,  continue  our  journey  on  Sunday, 
since  he  was  always  more  careful  than  many  are 
in  the  observance  of  the  day;  but  now,  with  all 
our  hearts  so  serious  with  fresh  thoughts  of  dear 
Mother  in  Paradiso  and  our  bodies  so  fatigued  by 
travel,  we  were  but  too  glad  of  the  occasion  to 
rest  and  hear  high  Mass  with  the  heavenly  music 
at  the  Cathedral. 

"The  day  was  fine,  and  we  did  not  return 
directly  from  the  Cathedral  to  the  Convent  on 
the  other  side  of  the  /sere,  but  after  Mass  saun- 
tered away  from  the  church  into  the  Cimetiere  St. 
Roch.  Here  we  spent  a  long  while,  wandering 
among  the  tombs  and  reading  so  many  strange 
names,  so  many  curious  inscriptions,  and  some 
very  touching  ones,  which  made  us  feel  what 
a  world  of  sorrow  this  is,  and  in  every  country 
alike. 

"As  the  hours  wore  on,  we  withdrew  to  the 
adjoining  Promenade  de  /'  lie  Verte  and  sat  in  the 
shade  of  those  grand  old  trees,  eating  the  light 
lunch  which  the  kind  nuns  had  provided  and 
endeavoring  to  console  one  another  with  our 
conversation. 

"  That  morning,  before  Babbo  came  to  the  Con- 
vent for  us  (for  he  lodged  with  an  acquaintance 
of  his  boyhood,  near  the  swimming  school,  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river  and  of  the  town),  Maria 

96 


OF  MARTIGNY 

and  I  had  agreed  to  ask  him  about  that  name 
'  Cecilia '  which  had  been  a  mystery  to  us  all  our 
lives  —  why  it  was  put  into  my  name,  since  we 
had  no  relations  called  so  —  how  he  had  known 
that  it  belonged  to  sister  Agata  —  in  short,  to  tell 
us  the  whole  story,  while  we  had  leisure,  and 
were  in  a  mood  to  hear  it  and  to  be  comforted  by 
it.  For  that  there  was  a  story  we  had  long  been 
sure  from  snatches  of  remarks  we  had  heard 
between  Babbo  and  dear  Mother  even  from  our 
infancy;  and  still  more  so  by  what  we  had  seen 
and  heard  on  this  visit. 

"  During  our  lunch  I  proposed  the  question  to 
Babbo  and  Maria  pressed  it  in  her  own  gentle 
way.  Taken  by  surprise,  he  at  first  tried  feebly 
to  escape  it,  saying  : 

—  'Why,  children,  I  never  thought  it  would  be 
to  the  honor  or  benefit  of  anybody  to  rake  up  old 
follies  of  bygone  days,  but  to  let  the  dead  past 
be  buried  decently  and  forever.' 

"  But  Marias  great  soft  eyes  looking  so  plead- 
ingly into  his  he  could  not  resist,  and  presently 
he  said: 

— '  How  can  I,  dear  children,  deny  you  any 
pleasure  that  is  in  my  power  ?  —  and  at  best  you 
have  so  little  ! ' 

— '  We  have  you,  Babbo  dear,  and  that  is  every- 
thing,' we  both  cried  in  one  breath. 

97 


THE    TWIN   SISTERS 

— '  You  are  angels  from  heaven,'  he  said  with  a 
tender  trembling  in  his  voice,  '  but  I  don't  know 
if  this  knowledge  will  make  you  happier.'  Then, 
after  a  little  pause,  he  began 

The  Story  of  CECILIA  ATTILIO. 

'  Forty-five  years  ago  Cecilia  Attilio  was  a  fan- 
ciulla  like  you.  Her  father,  Roberto,  possessed  a 
little  property  on  the  edge  of  the  Val  d'  Aosta, 
ten  or  twelve  chilometri  from  the  Little  St.  Bernard. 
He  used  often  to  come  to  Aosta  with  the  product 
of  his  garden  and  orchard  and  a  patch  of  chest- 
nut and  walnut  forest,  and  on  days  of  the  fair  he 
often  had  a  baracca  [stall  or  booth  of  boards  or 
cloth  or  both]  where  his  pretty  daughter  sold 
cakes  and  honey  and  milk  and  walnuts  and  boiled 
chestnuts  and  the  like. 

'  There  was  always  a  crowd  around  this  booth 
who  paid  their  money  quite  as  much  for  the 
pleasure  of  talking  with  her  and  of  being  served 
in  her  sweet  wonderful  ways  —  which  made  the 
men  frantic  to  take  some  little  playful  liberties 
with  her,  as  they  used  to  do  with  many  of  the 
handsome  girls  at  the  fair,  but  which  she  never 
for  an  instant  allowed  to  anyone. 

'  She  was  always  light-hearted  and  bright  as 
the  morning,  but  never  foolishly  frolicsome.  She 
came  to  know  hundreds  of  young  fellows  and 
older  ones  from  all  the  country  round;  and  when 


OF  MARTIGNY 

she  met  them  again  after  the  year  or  six  months, 
since  the  last  fair,  she  would  recognize  each  one 
so  sweetly  and  enquire  after  their  health  and 
luck  in  their  affairs  (their  sheep,  or  cattle,  or 
vines,  or  silk  cocoons,  etc.),  and  even  in  some 
cases,  where  she  knew  it  would  please,  after  the 
betrothed  (whose  existence  she  only  conjectured), 
and  then  would  exult  with  the  accepted  and  con- 
dole so  comfortingly  and  inspiringly  with  the 
jilted — "T  is  a  shame  for  such  a  nice  fellow  as 
you !  but  never  mind,  there  's  a  much  pret- 
tier and  better  fanciullettina  [sweet,  pretty  little 
maiden]  waiting  eagerly  for  you  in  her  hiding- 
place  —  hunt  her  up  at  once  and  come  to  me 
laughing  next  fair. 

'  Or,  as  she  handed  the  glass  to  some  demure 
lad,  '  Well  my  fine  fellow,  how  tall  you  are  grow- 
ing !  —  I  think  you  Ve  gone  up  half-a-span  since 
the  last  fair  —  there  must  be  a  Signorinetta  in  the 
case  by  this  time  I  know  —  I  congratulate  you 
both.'  Or  to  a  rough,  sturdy  contadino  [country 
'  chap ']  with  a  broad-brimmed  slouched  hat,  badly 
banged  and  brim  turned  up  in  front,  holding 
a  long,  heavy  whip  stifly  upright  a  la  shoulder 
arms,  '  Ecco,  il  mio  padrone !  [Well  done  !  here  is 
my  honorable  landed  proprietor]  I  hear  you  are 
growing  rich  —  well,  I'm  glad  of  it  —  you  deserve 
it  all  —  only  do  n't  get  proud,  and  pity  the  poor ! ' 

99 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

'  Or  to  one  newly  married  (of  whom  she  knew 
nothing,  but  only  guessed),  '  Is  it  a  bambino  [boy- 
baby]  Michele  ?  —  kiss  him  for  me  —  does  he  look 
grand  like  you  ?  —  or  like  his  beautiful  mother  ? ' 

'  And  so  on  and  on,  something  different  to  each, 
always  nice  and  pleasant  to  the  happy,  and 
always  hitting  the  mark. 

'Or  if  it  were  one  whom  she  knew  to  have 
been  struck  by  misfortune,  or  to  be  in  trouble  of 
any  kind,  she  had  a  soft  mournful  word  that  went 
straight  as  an  arrow  carrying  a  thrill  of  sweet 
comfort  to  his  heart;  and  as  she  spoke,  her  beau- 
tiful lips  would  tremble,  and  often  a  tear  would 
start  in  the  corners  of  her  great  lustrous  eyes. 

'  In  short,  no  matter  who  he  was,  or  what  joy's 
or  sorrows  he  carried  in  his  heart,  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Cecilia's  booth  was  always  the  pleasantest 
spot  in  all  the  fair. 

'  She  and  I  used  to  meet  regularly  at  the  fair 
and  often  at  other  times  from  the  time  that  I  was 
twelve  and  she  two  years  younger.  At  this  early 
age,  while  our  two  fathers  were  busy,  each  with 
his  own  affairs  in  the  market,  we  sometimes 
strayed  together  along  the  great  central  street 
looking  at  the  shops;  sometimes  we  wandered 
into  the  suburbs  and  gazed  with  wonder  and 
childish  remarks  on  the  ancient  wall  and  tower 
and  the  remains  of  old  Roman  days;  or  romped 


OF  MARTIGNY 

for  wild  flowers  in  the  meadows  on  the  banks  of 
the  Dora-baltea. 

'  In  many  ways,  as  the  years  went  on,  we  came 
to  know  each  other  so  very  well.  We  called  our- 
selves by  our  Christian  names,  and  "  gave  the  tu 
to  each  other."  I0 

'She  grew  to  be  strangely  beautiful.  Her 
figure  was  perfect,  her  step  as  light  as  a  ga- 
zelle. Her  features  had  no  irregularity,  yet  did 
not  remind  me  of  any  other  person.  The  quint- 
essence of  sweetness  lay  upon  her  lips,  and  her 
skin  wore  the  flush  of  roses  reflected  on  snow. 

'  But  it  was,  I  think,  the  fiery  softness  of  her 
coal-black  eyes,  coupled  with  her  flaxen  hair 
(which,  when  unbound,  flowed  in  native  ringlets 
far  below  her  knees)  —  a  combination  so  rare  as 
almost  to  be  an  unheard-of  thing  —  which  so  im- 
measurably exalted  her  beauty  and  distinguished 
her  from  every  other  woman  I  have  ever  seen ; 
and  wherever  she  went,  drew  upon  her  the  gaze 
of  every  eye. 

'  Of  course,  she  began  to  have  many  and  many 
admirers  ;  and,  in  her  circumstances,  it  could  not 
fail  that  she  should  be  more  or  less  exposed  to 
designing  and  wicked  approaches.  But  the  breath 
of  flattery  passed  over  her  like  the  blasts  of  win- 
ter over  the  drifts  of  snow.  She  seemed  both  un- 
conscious and  careless  of  her  marvelous  loveli- 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

ness,  and  advances  of  that  sort  were  as  ineffect- 
ual as  efforts  to  climb  Mons  Buet  in  icy  December. 

'  But,  as  I  grew  older  and  came  to  know  more 
and  more  of  the  world,  she  was  more  and  more  in 
my  thoughts,  and  I  became  more  and  more  anx- 
iously concerned  for  her  safety. 

'  One  day,  during  the  time  of  the  fair,  when  I 
was  nineteen  and  she  seventeen,  it  chanced,  as 
had  often  happened  before,  that  I  had  a  baracca 
beside  hers.  We  had  met  and  talked  together,  for 
the  snatch  of  a  moment,  at  least,  almost  every 
hour,  during  the  three  days  of  the  fair.  It  was 
early  afternoon  of  the  last  day,  when  the  scirocco 
sprung  up  with  a  sudden  gust  and  whirlwind, 
which,  in  a  moment,  overturned  both  her  booth 
and  mine  in  a  mingled  heap  of  indescribable 
confusion. 

'  Happily,  no  one  was  injured.  But  I  saw  her 
falling,  through  fright  and  by  the  prodigious 
force  of  the  wind.  I  leaped  from  my  own  tot- 
tering booth,  and,  seizing  her  in  my  arms,  carried 
her  to  a  place  of  safety.  An  instant  later  a  heavy 
board  fell  upon  the  place  where  her  head  would 
have  been. 

'The  gust  was  soon  over.  I  helped  restore 
her  effects  to  order.  Her  sweet  voice  filled  my 
ears  with  thanks  and  praises,  till  my  soul  was 
overflowing  with  emotion  such  as  I  never  felt 


OF  MARTIGNY 

before.  She  seemed  to  me  an  angel  of  heaven. 
She  did  not  seem  heavy  in  my  arms  ;  but  then 
and  afterward,  during  the  remainder  of  the  day, 
I  trembled  from  head  to  foot,  as  if  I  had  been 
over-strained  with  too  great  a  lift  ;  and  the  feel- 
ing of  having  her  in  my  arms  continued  for  sev- 
eral hours. 

'  That  evening,  when  we  all  were  packed  and 
on  the  point  of  starting  for  our  homes,  feeling  as 
if  it  would  kill  me  to  let  her  go  out  of  my  sight,  I 
ran  up  to  take  leave  of  her,  as  on  such  occasions 
I  always  did,  but  instead  of  the  usual  "a  rivederci" 
[good-bye  till  we  meet  again],  I  brought  her  hand 
(which  trembled  more  than  mine)  to  my  lips  and 
said,  " io  f'  amo,  to  f  adore!"  [I  love  you,  I  adore 
you]. 

'God  only  knew  what  happened.  Her  sweet 
countenance  instantly  seemed  to  change  to  an- 
ger. Her  rosy  color  fled,  and  her  face  became 
snowy  white.  She  dropped  my  hand  without 
a  word  and  ran  from  me. 

'  I  know  not  how  I  reached  home.  I  ex- 
pected my  vitals  would  burst  in  my  bosom 
from  the  thundering  convulsions  there,  I  knew 
not  whether  of  rage  or  despair. 

'  After  all  these  years  of  encouraged  love,  — 
all  these  years  of  silent  yet  real  and  accepted 
heart-worship  —  had  I  at  last  been  jilted  ?  —  jilted 
103 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

by  her  ?  —  by  Cecilia  ?  — the  angel  ?  —  nearest  of 
mortal  women  to  the  Madonna  in  heaven  ? 

'  Was  is  possible  that  she  cared  nothing  for 
my  love  ?  —  despised  the  adoration  of  my  soul  ?  — 
hated  my  presence? — wished  me  out  of  her 
sight  ? 

'  Must  I  believe  —  could  I  believe  that  she  had 
been  deceiving  me  all  these  years?  Had  it  not 
been,  in  a  manner,  taken  for  granted  that  we 
should  one  day  belong  to  each  other?  What 
had  appeared  to  change  it  now  ?  Was  there,  per- 
haps, somebody  else  in  sight  ?  Was  her  so  rare 
beauty  a  fortune  too  big  to  share  it  with  a  mere 
shepherd?  —  no  matter  what  blood  ran  in  his 
veins  ?  —  or  —  oh  Hell !  —  had  its  market  value 
become  too  apparent  not  to  refuse  to  sell  it  for 
less  than  a  mountain  of  ready  cash  !  Could  my 
Cecilia  be  a  flirt  —  a  false  coquette  ?  I  could  not 
believe  it  —  but  I  must  believe  it !' 

'  Like  one  worn  out  with  labor,  or  smitten  by 
disease,  I  barely  found  my  way  with  difficulty  to 
my  bed.  For  many  nights  and  days  I  neither 
slept  nor  received  nourishment.  My  Mother 
(may  Iddio  and  our  Lady  shed  light  and  rest  upon 
her  spirit !)  nursed  me  incessantly  in  every  best 
way  her  love  could  invent.  She  made  no  trouble- 
some inquiries.  It  was  not  her  way.  Whether 
she  suspected  the  true  cause  of  my  malady,  I 
104 


OF  MARTIGNY 

never  knew.  But  one  may  suffer  much  from 
this  disorder  and  live.  It  was  so  with  me.  My 
distress  was  extreme.  Life  lost  its  charm  for 
me.  Hope  was  dead  in  my  breast.  I  was  ready 
to  die.  Yet  I  lived.  By  slow  degrees  my  strength 
returned.  Again  I  slept  and  ate  and  worked. 
Still,  it  is  true,  like  those  diseases  which  can  visit 
a  man  but  once,  and  appear  to  consume  from  his 
constitution  the  aliment  on  which  they  feed,  since 
the  experience  of  that  tremendous  inflammation, 
I  have  never  been  quite  the  same.  That  unspeak- 
able glamour  of  love  never  returned  to  me. 

'Meantime,  while  this  agonizing  transforma- 
tion was  going  forward  in  my  soul,  and  my  sad- 
ness and  despair  were  subsiding  more  and  more, 
to  eventuate  in  a  less  jubilant,  certainly,  yet  not 
less  real  and  worthy  life,  there  came  a  visitor  to 
our  home.  My  orphan  half-cousin,  Marthe  Helene 
Marie  Manivet  from  Nismes,  came  to  my  Mother, 
her  only  surviving  aunt,  and  in  fact  only  near 
relation  in  any  degree,  to  spend  an  indefinite 
time.  She  had  a  little  property  in  the  Rente 
[national  loan]  but  no  home;  and  my  Mother,  as 
her  nearest  of  kin,  and  with  her  mother-heart 
always  open,  invited  her  to  come  to  us. 

'You  know  the  result  for  me.  I  loved  again. 
Not  with  the  frenzy  of  amorous  madness.  That, 
as  I  have  said,  was  for  me  forever  impossible, 

105 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

but  a  soft  and  peaceful  flame  was  kindled  in  both 
our  souls.  A  sober  and  steady  affection,  built  on 
a  true  and  firm  friendship  and  an  ever-growing 
mutual  esteem,  united  our  humble  and  chequered 
lives  in  one  happy  current,  till  it  was  struck  by 
the  Great  Divider;  and  the  chief  comfort  of  my 
life  now  lies  in  looking  forward  to  the  reunion 
never  again  to  be  broken  on  the  other  side. 

'But  what  of  Cecilia?  Ah,  children,  this  is 
the  cap-stone  of  my  monumental  grief.  I  was 
consoled  in  my  misery,  but  not  to  the  degree  of 
being  willing  to  revisit  Aosta  —  the  field  of  my 
misfortune  —  for  many  months. 

'I  was  at  length  betrothed  and  I  felt  no  de- 
sire to  meet  Cecilia  again.  In  fact,  my  prevail- 
ing sentiment  was  decidedly  the  opposite.  There 
were,  however,  some  reasons  which  occasionally 
shook  my  resolve  to  avoid  her  forever.  My  anger 
at  my  assumed  injury  had  gradually  passed  away, 
I  was  contented, —  why  should  I  retain  a  grudge  ? 
Besides,  though  perhaps  not  meaning  so,  had  she 
not  thrown  into  my  arms  a  prize  ? 

'During  these  months,  after  my  perturbation 
had  passed  away,  as  I  calmly  reviewed  these 
events,  my  conduct  came  up  to  me  often  in  a 
ridiculous  light,  and  more  than  once  I  caught 
myself  laughing  aloud  at  my  folly.  Once  this 
laughter  in  a  dream  awaked  me  from  sleep. 
106 


OF  MARTIGNY 

'At  last,  one  day  it  was  suddenly  borne  in 
upon  me,  like  a  flash  of  lightning,  What  if  it  is  / 
who  have  wronged  her  ?  Had  I  not  acted  wholly 
on  conjecture, —  and  that  most  hastily  taken  up  ? 
Was  not  my  only  ground,  my  own  interpretation 
of  her  action  —  one  single  act?  Must  I  not  admit 
that  a  different  interpretation,  if  not  probable, 
was,  at  the  least,  possible  ?  Had  I  not  cut  off  all 
opportunity  from  her  to  explain?  Perhaps  an 
explanation  would  have  healed  my  wounded  self- 
love,  if  it  did  not  satisfy  my  desires,  and  have 
saved  my  crimination  of  her,  whom,  surely,  I 
would  always  wish  to  think  incapable  of  wrong 
doing  to  me,  or  to  any  one. 

'  Remember,  children,  that  I  was  then  calm 
and  happy  in  my  love  and  betrothal  of  your  lovely 
and  blessed  Mother.  God  forbid  that  I  should 
ever  say  or  think  anything  but  thankfulness  that 
His  gracious  Providence  led  her  and  not  another 
to  my  heart  and  my  home.  But,  I  say,  when  the 
perturbation  of  my  mind  and  heart  was  over,  and 
I  was  safely  moored  in  a  sacred  and  happy  haven 
of  love,  a  desire  arose  to  see  Cecilia  once  mor%, 
and  tell  her  of  my  new-found  joy. 

'  If  she  had  never  felt  for  me  (as  I  had,  till  the 

fatal  day,  wrongly  supposed)   the  same  passion 

which  I  felt  for  her  ;  and  if,  as  I  now  hoped,  she 

felt  kindly  toward  me,  at  least  as  an  intimate 

107 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

friend  and  playmate  of  childhood,  I  thought  it 
would  be  an  agreeable  thing  to  her  to  meet  me 
again  and  hear  my  story,  and  congratulate  me  on 
my  fortune. 

'Full  of  this  thought,  which,  however,  I  con- 
cealed in  my  own  bosom,  at  the  time  of  the 
August  fair  I  went  again  to  Aosta  and  sought 
for  the  Attilio  booth.  I  could  not  discover  it, 
and  I  wondered  at  this.  But  it  was  still  early 
in  the  first  day.  I  conjectured  that  some  hin- 
drance had  occurred  that  would  be  removed, 
and  the  stall  would  appear  before  the  evening. 
It  did  not  appear  that  day,  and  I  went  home 
with  my  errand  unaccomplished. 

'  I  could  not  rest  satisfied,  however.  There 
was  now  another  problem  to  solve.  Some  impor- 
tant change  I  felt  sure  had  occurred.  Perhaps 
she  was  married  —  perhaps  to  some  rich  man,  or 
nobleman  —  or  in  some  other  way  had  sold  her 
glorious  beauty  and  gone  —  God  knows  where, 
but  probably  never  to  meet  my  eyes  again. 

'  I  was  too  much  interested  to  abandon  my 
pflrpose,  and  on  the  following  day,  I  was  there 
again  making  the  same  search.  Hour  after  hour 
I  moved  among  the  crowded  stalls,  and  once 
and  again  had  perambulated  the  principal  street 
of  the  town,  and  peered  into  every  lane  and 
shop ;  but  it  was  in  vain. 
1 08 


AOSTA.  —  PRIORY    OF    S.    ORSO. 


OF  MARTIGNY 

'  The  forenoon  was  already  nearly  passed.  I 
had  visited  every  quarter  and  tried  every  means 
of  search  in  my  power ;  but  all  without  success. 
I  had  left  the  market-place  and  sauntered  into 
the  suburbs,  meditating  whether  I  would  not 
give  up  the  bootless  chase  and  return  home. 
As  I  approached  the  old  tower,  accidentally  lift- 
ing my  eyes,  I  saw  before  me  a  female  figure 
which  seemed  to  have  issued  from  the  Priory 
of  S.  Or  so. 

'  Of  course,  my  heart  instantly  throbbed  with 
a  new  excitement.  I  seemed  to  recognize  the 
figure  as  that  of  her  whom  I  sought.  She  was 
moving  slowly  from  me.  There  was  the  slender 
height,  the  fine  proportions,  the  step  —  no,  the 
step  was  not  hers.  The  grace,  the  life,  the  elas- 
ticity, so  marked  in  her  I  sought,  were  not  here. 
Then,  as  I  came  nearer,  I  observed  that  the  dress 
was  black  —  a  color  I  had  never  seen  her  wear. 
But,  coming  nearer  still,  I  found  a  surer  test. 
The  hair  was  black,  or  else  it  had  been  drawn  up 
close  under  a  black  silk  cap.  It-  was  useless  to 
follow  further,  and,  under  some  hidden  impulse, 
I  changed  the  direction  of  my  steps,  and  wan- 
dered to  the  south  gate  and  the  tower  of  Brama- 
fam  of  uncanny  memory.11 

'  I  was  resolved  now  to  give  up  all  further  pur- 
suit ;  and  started  by  the  nearest  course  for  the 
109 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

highway  and  my  return  home.  I  had  reached  the 
crumbling  walls  of  the  ancient  Teatro  and  the 
arcades  of  the  Anfiteatro,  and,  making  an  abrupt 
turn  to  the  right,  I  came  suddenly  face  to  face 
with  the  slender  black  figure,  standing  under 
an  umbrella  to  shield  her  from  the  August 
sun ;  and,  at  the  instant  that  this  vision  met 
my  eyes,  a  little  scream  smote  my  ears  : 

"  Mio  Iddio  in  Cielo  !  —  Filippo  Ombrosini  !  " 

'  I  stopped,  stunned  as  if  struck  by  a  thunder- 
bolt. That  voice  !  —  yes.  Those  eyes  !  —  Ah, 
yes,  their  own  indescribable  languishing  fire. 
That  heavenly  face! — yes,  but  as  white  as  the 
sheeted  snow,  only,  for  the  moment,  by  the 
shock  of  surprise,  tinged  on  the  cheeks  with 
just  a  reflection  of  the  flush  of  dawn. 

'  All  else,  how  changed !  The  plump  round- 
ness gone.  The  bones  of  the  face  and  neck 
and  hands  projecting  as  from  a  skeleton.  The 
whole  figure  so  thin  that  the  garments  hung 
as  on  a  skeleton  indeed. 

'  I  did  not  and  could  not  speak  ;  nor  did  she 
utter  another  word.  But,  after  a  moment  of 
silent  gaze  —  it  seemed  an  eternity  to  me  — 
beckoning  me  with  her  free  hand  to  follow, 
she  turned  and  led  me  to  the  further  side  of  a 
grove  of  aged  chestnuts,  which  threw  a  deep 
shade  over  some  moss-covered  rocks  on  the 


OF  MARTIGNY 

brink  of  a  rattling  brook  which  had  almost  ended 
its  noisy,  hasty  chase  to  the  Dora-baltea. 

'Nature  had  prepared  this  retreat — it  was  near 
the  half -buried  old  Roman  Bridge  —  as  if  arrang- 
ing it  especially  for  us.  Two  rustic  armchairs, 
formed  by  conspiring  rocks  and  roots,  stood  vis  a 
vis.  The  spot  was  in  full  view  of  the  great  high- 
way, and  within  hearing  of  the  hum  of  the  busy 
fair ;  yet  it  was  sufficiently  apart  for  the  freest 
communications,  without  fear  of  disturbance  or 
eavesdropping.  She  threw  herself  hastily  into 
one  of  these  seats.  I  sank  mechanically  and 
silently  into  the  other.  The  little  brook  rippled 
and  danced  as  in  mockery  of  me. 

'She  had  not  spoken,  and  for  a  little  space 
did  not  speak  nor  raise  her  eyes  from  her  lap, 
where  her  fingers  were  toying  nervously  with 
the  handle  of  her  sunshade. 

'Suddenly  she  raised  those  great  eyes  full  of 
awful  love  and  looked  squarely  into  mine,  with  a 
glance  that  sent  icy  chills  thrilling  up  and  down 
my  spinal  marrow,  and  said  with  a  voice  as  clear 
as  the  Ave  Maria  bell  on  that  Convent  of  S*.  Maria, 
yet  that  trembled  and  hesitated  on  every  word : 
"  So  —  you  — did  —  not  —  love  —  me  !  —  you  —  you 
you  —  deceived  me  !  " 

'  I  wished  to  say  something,  I  do  n't  know,  and 
I  believe  I  did  n't  then  know  what,  but  a  lump 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

swelled  suddenly  in  my  throat  and  made  it  im- 
possible. But  she,  seeing  me  trying  to  speak,  sig- 
naled to  me  to  be  silent  and  went  on: 

"  Look  at  me,  Filippo !  —  See  what  the  fever 
has  left  me  !  "  Here  she  snatched  off  the  black 
cap  from  her  head.  "  Oh,  mio  Iddio  !  "  I  threw  up 
my  hands  and  cried,  for  there  was  n't  a  hair  visi- 
ble on  her  snow-white,  shiny  scalp  ! 

'I  did  not  try  to  say  more,  but  sat  in  silent 
agony,  my  eyes  riveted  on  that  horrible  sight. 
She  went  on  —  pausing  a  good  while  between  her 
sentences  : 

"  Filippo  Ombrosini,  were  we  not  children  to- 
gether ?  .  .  .  Did  we  not  chase  one  another  through 
the  streets  of  the  fair  ?  .  .  .  Did  we  not  pelt  one 
another  with  wild  flowers  in  the  meadows?  .  .  . 
When  I  fell,  who  but  my  Filippo  picked  me  up  ... 
lifted  me  so  gently  .  .  .  wiped  the  soil  from  my 
brow  with  the  petals  of  wild  roses  .  .  .  and  .  .  .  and 
kissed  the  spot  to  make  it  well  ? " 

'  Here  she  paused,  replaced  the  cap,  and  hid 
her  face  in  her  hands.  I  dared  not  speak,  nor  lift 
my  eyes.  For,  not  being  able  to  bear  her  glance, 
I  had  dropped  my  eyes,  at  the  first,  on  the  ground, 
and  my  heart  fluttered  and  pounded  my  side,  like 
the  windmills  of  Venezia  in  the  gusts  of  Novem- 
ber. All  was  still  again  for  a  long,  long  time, 
which  seemed  to  me  would  never  end. 

112 


OF  MARTIGNY 

\ 

'At  last  she  went  on  again:  "As  we  grew 
older,  how  thoughtful  you  were  of  me  —  how 
modest — how  careful — how  helpful. —  Then,  that 
dreadful  day  when  the  Scirocco  blew — and  you — 
your  arms  carried  me  —  away  to  safety. —  Oh, 
how  —  how  grateful  I  —  I  felt  to  you  —  I  thought 

—  I    thought    I  —  I    belonged  —  I    belonged    to 

—  to    you. —  Oh,    how    afraid    I    was  —  afraid    I 
should  say — should  say — say  something — some- 
thing a  maiden  —  a  maiden  must  n't  say. —  And 
that    evening  —  that    evening    when    the    great 
moon  was  looking  down  on  us  and  —  and  you 
told   me  —  told  me    and  —  and  my  heart  —  my 
heart    was   ready  —  was   ready   to   burst    and  — 
and    I    was  —  I    was    so    frightened   and  —  and 
turned  —  turned  a  little  —  a  little   away  and  — 
and   I  thought  —  I  thought  you  —  you   would  — 
would  follow  and  —  and  claim  —  and  claim  and 

—  take  your  rights  and  —  and  you — you  did  n't 

—  did    n't    love    me  —  truly  —  and    have,    have 
loved    another  —  so    soon  —  oh,   so    soon  !  —  and 
are — are  betrothed — yes,  are  betrothed  —  I  have 
heard   of  it  —  are   betrothed  —  yes,   betrothed  — 
forever  —  yes,    forever    and    ever  —  oh,    oh  !  — 
what  to  a  man — to  a  man,  is  a  woman's  heart? 

—  a  woman's  —  heart?  —  a  woman's — a  woman's 
heart? — oh,  oh,  oh!"    Then  she  broke  down  in 
hysterical  sobs. 

"3 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

'  The  truth  was  flashed  upon  me.  How  could 
I  ever  have  distrusted  her  so  ?  At  all  events,  how 
could  I  have  been  such  a  coward,  not  to  take  her 
by  force?  —  to  take  my  kingdom  of  heaven  by 
violence  ?  I  knew  not  what  to  say,  or  do.  In 
fact,  there  was  nothing  for  me  to  say  or  do, 
but  to  endure  the  torture  of  conscious  guilt  in 
shame  and  in  silence. 

' "  /  had  not  loved  her  !  "  —  Good  Heavens  !  God 
knows  I  had  loved  her  with  all  the  sentiments 
of  my  soul  and  all  the  energies  of  my  body  — 
that  my  mind  and  heart,  entendered  by  the 
truest  friendship,  and  the  most  unbounded  es- 
teem, were  consuming  in  the  fiercest  flame  of 
youthful  passion.  Not  love  her!  —  To  save  her 
from  a  pang,  or  to  gratify  her  most  whimsical 
wish,  I  would  have  risked  my  life  in  a  moment 
—  yes,  I  would  have  sold  it,  without  a  moment's 
hesitation. 

'  Yet  I  dared  not  —  I  must  not  tell  her  this  — 
and  how  I  had  mistaken,  in  my  mad  love,  the 
meaning  of  her  conduct.  The  next  thing  would 
be  to  say  I  was  sorry ;  and  that,  at  all  hazards 
and  in  any  event,  I  must  not  do.  It  would  be 
treason  to  your  loving  and  trusting  mother, 
betrothed  by  my  solemn  words,  to  say  so,  or 
to  allow  myself  for  one  moment  to  feel  so. 

'  But  what  had  I  done  !  —  What  an  innocent 
114 


OF  MARTIGNY 

heart  I  had  shamefully  broken  !  —  What  an  angel 
life  I  had  damnably  murdered  !  —  The  remorse 
of  the  Inferno  rolled  into  my  bosom.  I  felt  the 
pangs  and  the  desperation  of  hell  in  my  soul. 
And  the  bitterest  part  of  the  bitterness  was 
that  I  knew,  I  felt  that  I  deserved  it  all.  Yes, 
children,  in  all  my  happy  life  with  your  blessed 
mother,  here  has  been  a  wound  in  my  heart 
that  never  has  healed.  I  have  tasted  the  tor- 
ture of  the  "undying  worm." 

'  Oh,  during  those  moments,  while  I  sat  under 
her  stinging  words,  how  gladly  would  I  have 
thrown  myself  at  her  feet !  — how  gladly  would  I 
have  kissed  the  lowest  hem  of  her  garments  !  — 
Or,  rather,  what  peerless  joy  it  would  have  been 
to  snatch  her  up  in  my  arms  and  soothe  her 
like  an  infant !  But  alas,  alas,  I  could  not,  I 
must  not  show  a  sign  of  sorrow,  nor  even  of 
pity.  It  would,  in  a  moment,  have  hurled  me 
into  the  whirlpool  of  actual  infidelity  to  your 
mother. 

'  I  dared  not  remain  a  moment  longer  in  her 
presence.  God  only  knows  what  would  have 
happened  five  minutes  later.  With  a  sudden 
spring,  I  rose  and  fled  from  her  —  throwing 
back,  however,  over  my  shoulder,  these  three 
words:  "/  did  love  you. — /  misunderstood  your  ac- 
tions.—  /  have  got  hell  in  my  soul!" 

"5 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

'  I  staggered  home  in  the  utmost  anguish. 
My  distress  was  far  greater  now  than  when  I 
last  passed  over  this  track  on  my  former  sad 
return.  Then  I  felt  innocent,  though  injured. 
Now  I  knew  and  felt  that  I  was  a  criminal. 
Every  rock  and  bush  at  the  roadside  seemed  con- 
scious of  my  baseness  and  to  cry  out  against  me. 
Nor  could  I  do  anything  to  atone  for  my  fault. 
I  must  carry  my  guilt  through  life.  Yes,  I  must 
carry  it  into  the  other  world  —  and  how  could 
I  bear  to  meet  her  there  ? 

'It  aggravated  my  anguish,  if  that  were  possi- 
ble, that  I  must  bear  it  in  secrecy  and  alone.  For 
I  dared  not  tell  the  facts  to  my  mother,  much 
less  to  my  betrothed.  The  burden  was  again  too 
much  for  my  strength;  and  from  the  hour  I 
entered  my  chamber,  it  was  a  month  before  I 
came  out  to  breathe  again  the  free  air  of  heaven. 

'  Meantime  my  sufferings  and  the  apparent 
danger  that  my  reason  would  be  unhinged, 
brought  our  whole  family  into  great  distress. 
My  mother  was  nearly  prostrated  under  her 
double  anxiety  —  not  only  for  her  son  but  as  well 
for  the  dear  girl  whose  prospects  in  life  were 
thus  balancing  between  hope  and  despair. 

'As  I  afterwards  learned  from  your  mother, 
the  two  women  dimly  but  surely  divined  the 
true  cause  of  the  mysterious  malady  by  which  I 
116 


OF  MARTIGNY 

had  been  twice  brought  so  low,  having  been 
each  time  attacked  immediately  upon  a  return 
from  the  fair  at  Aosta.  Many  private  consulta- 
tions on  the  matter  were  held  by  them;  and  it 
was  finally  resolved  that  woman's  tact  should 
probe  it  to  the  bottom. 

'This  was  accomplished.  So  skillfully  was  it 
done  by  masked  approaches  —  chiefly  while  the 
two  alternated  at  the  bedside,  fanning  me  during 
the  hot  afternoons  —  that  I  promised  to  tell  my 
betrothed  the  whole  story.  This  I  did  one  Sun- 
day afternoon  while  my  Babbo  and  Mother  were 
not  yet  returned  from  the  Mass  at  Martigny. 

1  Did  the  dear  girl  upbraid  me  ?  Did  she  load 
me  with  accusations  of  my  guilt  and  folly?  — 
That  angel  ?  —  No  !  On  the  contrary,  she  entered 
into  my  trouble  even  as  her  own.  She  took  part 
of  the  distress  upon  her  own  heart;  and  so  helped 
me  to  bear  my  load. 

'  It  was  at  her  suggestion  that  I  wrote  a  letter 
to  Cecilia,  not  so  much  to  exonerate  myself  as  to 
do  all  that  a  craving  of  her  Christian  pardon  for 
my  foolish  and  guilty  mistake,  and  the  expression 
of  utmost  devotion  to  her  service  and  sincerest 
interest  in  all  her  future,  could  do  to  soothe  and 
cure  her  bruised  heart.  Much,  in  fact,  of  that 
letter  was  the  dictation  of  my  betrothed  —  a  dear 
woman's  heart  striving  to  console  another  dear 

"7 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

woman's  heart,  with  her  profoundest  sympathy 
and  tenderest  affection.  Truly,  they  both  were 
angelic  souls. 

'  I  received  after  many  months,  from  the  Con- 
vent of  the  Ursuline  in  Aosta,  a  brief  but  most 
Christian  reply.  "  She  was  already  dead  to  the 
world;  and  lived  now  only  as  Sister  Agata." 
There  were  no  accusations,  in  fact  there  was  no 
discussion  of  her  troubles.  "  The  frankness  of 
my  letter  comforted  her.  All  was  a  leading  of 
Providence.  It  was  her  duty  and  she  hoped  ever 
to  make  it  her  joy  to  delight  in  His  will.  My 
happiness  was  now  her  only  earthly  longing." 

' "  Her  father's  death  before  our  last  meeting 
had  been  the  cause  of  the  black  dress  which  I 
saw  her  in;  and  which  now  she  should  never  lay 
aside.  Her  little  property  she  had  given  to  the 
Convent.  She  made  one  request  —  that  after  our 
marriage  my  wife  might  be  brought  to  see  her 
through  the  bars,  and  afterwards,  that  she  might 
be  permitted  to  see  our  children,  and  lay  her 
hand  on  the  head  of  each  with  her  blessing." 
Her  removal  to  another  convent  soon  after  made 
it  impossible  to  gratify  this  wish. 

'  I  have  never  told  you,  for  I  could  not  before, 

without  explanations  which  I  could  not  give,  why 

the  body  of  your  mother  lay  during  the  night  in 

the  Chapel  of  the  Convent,  rather  than  in  some 

118 


OF  MAR  TIG  NY 

Church  nearer  the  Campo  Santo;  and  that  a 
requiem  was  sung  there  by  the  nuns,  while  you 
and  Maria  were  asleep.' 

"  Hardly  was  this  story  done,  while  we  were 
all  three  in  tears,  that  Maria  and  I  sprang 
up,  and  throwing  our  arms  together  around 
dear  Babbos  neck,  sobbed  for  some  minutes  in 
silence.  We  wept  on,  without  another  word, 
most  of  the  way  back  to  the  Convent.  On  the 
morrow,  we  started  early  to  finish  our  return." 


VIGILO    OMBROSINI. 


119 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 


XII. 

"Who  knoweth  the  spirit  of  man  that  goeth  upward,  and 
whether  the  spirit  of  the  beast  goeth  downward  to  the  earth  ?  — 
BIBLE  (Revised  Version),  ECCL.  iii,  21. 

<(  A  RRIVED  at  home,  no  Vigilo  was  lying  be- 
t\  fore  the  door,  but  we  found  him  on  a  mat 
in  the  kitchen  partly  covered  with  rags.  He 
faintly  wagged  his  tail  and  turned  his  languid 
eyes  towards  us  as  we  entered.  Maria  and  I 
bestowed  on  him  the  gentlest  caresses,  and  did 
for  him  everything  that  could  be  done,  but  in  two 
days  he  died. 

"  This  was  one  cost  of  our  visit  to  dear  Mother's 
grave ;  and  it,  in  turn,  became  again  the  link  that 
drew  upon  us  the  dreadfulest  grief  of  all. 

"  We  had  been  absent  nearly  three  weeks.  Babbo 
had  employed  a  friendly  old  shepherd  (who  lived 
two  hours  from  us,  having  a  married  son  who 
could  care  for  their  own  flock)  to  stay  in  our  house 
and  look  after  our  affairs  while  we  should  be 
away.  Age  had  crippled  him  so  that  the  active 
care  of  the  flocks  rested  mainly  upon  the  poor 
dog.  He  was  a  noble  fellow  of  a  noble  breed. 


OF  MARTIGNY 

He  seemed  to  understand  and  rise  to  the  respon- 
sibility of  the  situation,  and  it  was  fidelity  in  the 
line  of  duty  that  finally  cost  him  his  life. 

"  Being  mostly  alone  with  the  sheep  during  the 
day,  just  what  his  experiences  with  them  were, 
we  do  not  know.  But  the  old  man  said  that  on 
the  second  day  the  dog  came  in  at  night  behind 
the  flock  with  bloody  ears  and  limping  on  one 
leg.  All  went  well,  however,  till  the  evening  be- 
fore our  arrival,  when  there  was  trouble  with  a 
goat  which  had  lost  her  kid  and  refused  to  be  put 
into  the  pen.  The  old  man  was  not  active  enough 
to  give  the  dog  much  assistance.  She  finally 
leaped  high  in  the  air  and  shot  like  an  arrow  far 
afield.  Vigilo  was  soon  in  front  of  her,  however; 
and  when  she  tried  the  same  tactics  again,  she 
found  the  dog  too  quick  for  her.  Their  breasts 
struck  together  with  a  powerful  shock  ;  but  the 
goat  being  heavier  than  the  dog,  or  standing  on 
higher  ground,  the  blow  which  threw  her  back- 
ward landed  him  on  the  edge  of  a  loose  bowlder 
which  was  balanced  on  the  verge  of  a  chasm. 
His  weight  and  the  shock  dislodged  the  bowlder, 
which  fell  with  him  crushing  him  horribly. 

"  It  was  in  a  grave  near  the  door  that  we  bur- 
ied this  dear  companion  of  our  infancy  with  tears 
of  real  sorrow.  Before  anything  was  put  to  mark 
the  spot,  Maria  and  I  often  whispered  together 

121 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

some  strange  thoughts  —  you  and  other  people 
may  think  them  strange  —  may  be  they  were 
foolish  —  but  they  were  real  to  us.  m 

"We  could  n't  help  connecting  together  our 
two  great  sorrows;  and  the  more  especially  since 
one  was  at  least  the  indirect  cause  of  the  other. 
There  was  a  cross  on  one  grave,  why  not  —  would 
it  be  wrong  to  put  one  on  the  other  ?  Then  the 
whole  mystery  came  up  to  our  minds.  Do  the 
dumb  animals  commit  sin  ?  Certainly  some  seem 
to  be  very  malicious  and  naughty,  and  others  as 
benevolent  and  good.  If  not,  why  do  they  suffer  ? 
If  they  do,  did  n't  perhaps  the  Great  Sacrifice  suf- 
fice and  atone  for  them,  too,  —  especially  if  they 
try  to  be  faithful  and  good,  as  Vigilo  did  ?  If  so, 
what  harm,  or  rather,  how  suitable  to  put  over 
him  the  Great  Sign  !  But  we  did  n't  feel  very 
sure  of  our  ground ;  and  one  day  Babbo  took  out 
of  the  bed  of  the  Drance  a  stone  which  we  had 
often  fancied  looked  much  like  Vigilo,  as  he 
used  to  lie  crouched  and  sleeping  on  his  paws, 
and  brought  and  placed  it  on  his  grave.  This 
became  his  monument ;  but  I  have  thought  often 
and  much  about  the  other." 


OF  MARTIGNY 


XIII. 

What  if  I  choose  to  weep  alone? — 

For  flowing  tears  are  sweet  — 
Is  not  the  secret  pang  my  own  ? 

The  secret  guerdon  meet?  12 

AFTER  this  introduction  —  she  had  called  it 
so  —  of  the  parting  with  her  canine  friend, 
during  some  parts  of  which  her  lips  quivered  and 
her  voice  trembled,  my  fair  companion  became 
silent,  changed  her  shoes  into  the  other  hand, 
then  presently  removed  her  hat  and  set  the  shoes 
deftly  on  her  head,  all  without  turning  or  alter- 
ing her  gaze,  which  was  fixed  on  the  empty  dis- 
tance ahead.  I  did  not  speak,  for  I  seemed  to  see 
a  shadow  rising  over  her  countenance  which,  like 
the  black  summer  thunder-cloud,  foretells  a  com- 
ing shower.  I  was  not  mistaken.  The  shower  of 
tears  came.  Silently,  but  copiously,  the  drops 
fell  upon  a  dress-front  that  rose  spasmodically 
to  meet  them  with  very  soft  yet  audible  sighs. 
Silently  we  moved  on  for  some  minutes,  I  surely 
being  unwilling,  by  a  word  or  a  look  even,  to  in- 
123 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

fringe  on  this  tribute  to  a  sorrow  still  unknown 
to  me. 

But  I  was  not  at  ease.  Much  otherwise.  My 
feelings,  however,  were  confused.  I  dreaded  that 
which  I  desired.  For  I  was  sure  we  were  enter- 
ing now  into  the  penumbra,  at  least,  of  that  deep 
sorrow,  the  shadow  of  which  hung  so  dark  over 
her  young  life,  and  which  she  had  been  so  back- 
ward to  reveal.  I  was  sure  that  before  those  eyes 
so  steadily  fixed  on  vacancy  were  passing  shapes 
and  doings  which  I  was  impatient  to  hear  of, 
though  I  thought  likely  the  recital  would  thrill 
me  with  a  painful  sympathy. 

I  felt  sure,  however,  of  one  thing,  and  I  was 
much  calmed  and  comforted  by  it;  namely,  that, 
whatever  the  source,  her  sorrow  was  not  the  fruit 
of  vice  or  crime;  that  there  was  no  illicit  love  in 
the  story,  no  fruits  of  an  unchaste  passion,  no 
vengeance  wrought  on  a  seducer,  or  traitor  with 
dagger  or  pistol,  etc., —  the  everlasting  staple  of 
stories  which  in  our  day  so  many  moral  men  and 
virtuous  women  strangely  regale  themselves  with 
in  secret.  On  the  contrary,  I  was  sure  that  the 
moral  atmosphere  about  her  was  as  pure  as  the 
clear,  cool  zephyr  from  the  snowy  top  of  the 
Jungfrau  that  was  then  playing  with  her  unbound 
locks.  In  short,  that  the  cause  of  her  woe  was  of 
that  class  which  may  truly  be  called  "  an  act  of 
124 


OF  MARTIGNY 

God,"  and  justly  claim  the  sympathy  of  every 
good  man,  and  receive  every  consolation  which 
the  Church  can  offer,  or  Divine  Revelation  afford. 

Ere  long  her  calmness  returned.  Her  silent 
emotion  had  subsided.  With  bonnet  swinging 
free  on  her  arm,  she  quietly  resumed:  "It  was 
in  September  that  Vigilo  died  —  the  month  when 
JBabbo  carried  wood  to  the  Hospice.  He  started 
early  for  the  forest,  loaded  three  mules  —  two 
were  our  own  and  one  was  hired  —  and  arrived 
at  the  Hospice  before  noon. 

"  He  ate  the  luncheon  (commonly  a  good  piece 
of  black  bread  and  a  nibble  of  goat-cheese), 
which  he  carried  from  home,  and  baited  the 
mules  with  the  bundle  of  hay  which  was  tied  on 
the  top  of  the  load  of  each;  and  after  about  two 
hours'  rest,  started  on  his  return  and  was  home 
again  before  dark. 

"One  day  while  eating  his  luncheon  in  the 
cucina  of  the  Hospice,  as  usual,  he  met  there  a 
young  man  from  the  Mantuan  district  who  had 
brought  up  for  the  use  of  the  monks  some  cases 
of  choice  wine.  Divining  from  his  accent  whence 
he  came,  Babbo  told  him  of  our  loss  and  enquired 
about  the  prospect  of  getting  a  dog  of  the  Man- 
tuan breed. 

— '  jBuon,  buon  per  noi  !  Benissimo  per  tutt'  e  due  /' 
[capital,  capital  for  us  both]  replied  the  young 
125 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

man.  'I  have  exactly  the  dog  you  need;  and 
what  is  more,  we  are  compelled  to  part  with 
him.' 

— 'Compelled  to  part  with  him  ! ' — interjected 
Babbo,  '  has  he  ma'de  some  acquaintance  that  must 
be  broken  off  ? ' 

— '  No,  nothing  of  the  kind.  He  is  the  most 
orderly  of  animals.' 

— '  Nor  mastered  and  hurt  some  neighbor's 
dog?' 

— '  No,  sicuro,  no  !  We  are  too  retired  for  that, 
and  he  never  goes  off  the  place.' 

— '  Nor  killed  some  nobleman's  fox  or  boar  mak- 
ing havoc  among  your  vines  ? ' 

— '  He  hasn't;  for  no  such  occasion  has  offered. 
I  can't  say  what  he  would  have  done  in  such  a 
case.  He  is  a  terrible  fighter  with  wild  beasts, 
and  the  most  watchful  and  faithful  of  guardians 
when  on  duty.' 

— '  And  yet  you  will  part  with  him  ? ' 

— '  We  must.  Mamma  is  dead,  and  mio  Padre  is 
too  old  to  care  for  the  sheep.  I  — '  here  he 
hesitated,  Babbo  said,  and  the  color  of  his  face 
came  and  went,  but  presently  he  went  on, — '  I 
have  been  conscripted,  and  shall  be  taken  in 
two  weeks  into  the  barracks.' 

"  Babbo,  with  his  tender,  fatherly  heart,  was  so 
touched  by  his  tones  and  manner  that  he  forgot 
126 


OF  MARTIGNY 

for  the  moment  about  the  dog  in  his  interest 
in  the  young  man  and  replied: 

—'As  the  dependence  of  your  father,  have  n't 
you  good  ground  to  press  a  claim  for  exemp- 
tion from  the  service  ? ' 

— '  Probably  not,  for,  since  Mamma  is  gone  and 
we  have  a  bit  of  property,  and  Padre  is  not  con- 
fined to  his  bed '  — 

— '  But  you  might  try '  — 

— 'If  the  cost  were  not  so  hard  to  bear,  and 
the  result  so  doubtful  —  or  hardly  doubtful.' 

— 'What,  then,  will  you  do?  —  what  is  your 
plan  ? ' 

— '  There's  but  one  course  we  can  take.  When 
I'm  gone,  the  rents  must  be  given  up  of  the 
vineyard  and  pastures  and  everything  but  the 
cottage  ;  and  Padre  will  have  to  live  as  carefully 
as  he  can  on  the  little  we  've  laid  by.  It  may 
last  a  year  if  there  's  no  rise  in  house  rent  or 
maccaroni.  The  war,  they  say  's  likely  to  carry 
everything  up.' 

—'What  afterward?' 

— '  I  do  n't  know,  if  he  lives,  what  will  become 
of  him  —  unless  to  die  allo  spedale  [in  the  hospital]. 
Here  it  is.  Here  it  is.  We  would  n't  think  of 
letting  the  dog  go,  if  it  were  n't  necessary  to  have 
the  scudi  for  Padre  to  live  on.  For  they  are  great 
friends;  and  Padre  will  be  less  safe  and  very 
127 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

lonely  without  him.  But  the  dear  brute  must 
go,  and  we  must  find  for  him  a  good  home. 
That  is  all  we  can  do.' 

"The  gentle  manner  and  amiable  face  of  our 
Babbo  appeared  to  captivate  the  young  man. 
He  said  that  that  day  week  he  should  g6  with 
wine  to  Martigny,  and  enquired  if  Babbo  lived 
near  his  route.  Babbo  told  him  that  we  did ; 
and  explained  that  there  was  at  the  roadside, 
opposite  our  home,  a  piccolo  santuario  delta  Ma- 
donna [a  little  shrine  of  the  madonna]  which  on 
that  day  would  be  decorated  with  fresh  flowers. 
Babbo  also  requested  him,  if  he  felt  so  disposed, 
to  bring  the  dog  with  him,  for  which,  if  we 
kept  him,  Babbo  agreed  to  pay  fifty  scudi.™ 

"  The  young  man  having  promised  to  be  there 
with  the  dog  at  the  appointed  time,  the  con- 
versation turned  to  other  matters  and  the  busi- 
ness arrangement  was  not  again  referred  to. 

"  Another  thing  seemed  to  Maria  and  me  ex- 
ceedingly strange  and  unaccountable.  Babbo  had 
not  asked  the  name  of  the  young  man,  nor  told 
him  his  own.  We  were  amazed  at  this,  especially 
since  it  was  so  totally  opposite  to  Babbo  s  usual 
scrupulously  careful  way.  We  could  not  and 
never  did  give  ourselves  a  really  satisfactory 
reason  for  it.  But  it  seemed  probable  to  us  then 
and  afterward,  that  Babbo  was  from  the  first 
128 


OF  MARTIGNY 

smitten  with  such  an  admiration  of  him,  and  con- 
ceived such  an  unquestioning  trust  in  him,  so 
like  an  old  and  tried  acquaintance,  as  not  when 
in  his  presence,  to  think  of  his  name. 

"  But  every  way,  the  prospect  of  possessing  the 
dog  delighted  us,  and  we  were  anxious  that  the 
young  man  should  be  so  well  pleased  with  us  as 
to  make  the  prospect  a  certainty. 

"  Besides  this,  there  was  another  very  impor- 
tant element  in  our  excitement  which  we  did  not 
confess  even  to  our  own  hearts;  and  of  which, 
probably,  we  were  then  really  unconscious.  This 
visit,  though  ostensibly  and  truly  an  affair  of 
common  business,  would  be  a  new  adventure  to 
Maria  and  me. 

"  From  the  moment  when  Babbo  came  home 
with  the  news,  our  pulses  quickened,  our  hearts 
pounded  stronger  and  faster  against  our  sides, 
and  our  breath  sometimes  seemed  strangely 
choked.  -Our  fancy  at  once  became  busy  in 
drawing  a  picture  of  the  young  man's  looks. 

"That  he  was  handsome  was  certain  from 
Babbo 's  description  of  his  '  tall,  straight  figure,  his 
abundant  dark  hair,  his  soft  yet  brilliant  eyes,  his 
broad  shoulders,  his  deep  chest,  and  his  step  as 
light  and  spry  as  a  panther.' 

"That  he  was  as  brave  and  kind  as  he  was 
strong,  was  plain  enough,  also,  from  the  story 

129 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

which  he  told  Babbo  in  explaining  about  the 
dog. 

'About  a  year  ago,'  he  said,  'three  sheep  had 
disappeared,  one  by  one,  from  the  flock  in  the 
mountain  pasture,  though  they  were  always  folded 
at  nightfall  and  guarded  by  dogs  during  the  day. 
No  signs  of  wild  beasts  were  apparent,  and  no 
unusual  tracks  of  any  kind  had  been  left;  but  the 
sheep  were  never  found. 

'At  last  a  strict  watch  was  determined  on. 
There  was  on  one  side,  commanding  a  view  of 
the  pasture,  an  old  shepherd's  hut,  no  longer 
used,  but  built,  as  usual,  in  the  shape  of  a  long, 
low  beehive  of  reeds  and  mud,  just  long  enough 
and  high  enough  for  a  man  to  stretch  himself 
under,  with  his  head  at  the  opening  which  looked 
toward  the  valley.  Throwing  bushes  over  this 
opening  to  give  the  place  still  more  the  ap- 
pearance of  disuse  and  neglect,  the  young  man 
undertook  to  make  a  strict  watch  from  this 
concealment  till  something  should  be  discovered. 

'  Day  after  day  and  week  after  week  passed  by 
in  constant  watching,  but  without  any  important 
result.  At  last  on  the  fourth  week,  one  hot  after- 
noon, when  the  flock  was  somewhat  scattered, 
and  individual  sheep  had  strayed  into  the  cooler 
nooks  and  shades  of  the  hazel  bushes  and  birches 
and  projecting  rocks,  and  when  shepherds  are 
130 


OF  MARTIGNY 

more  often  inclined  to  be  dozing,  or  at  least  neg- 
lectful, the  dog,  who  had  been  quietly  observing 
the  sheep  from  his  sentinel-post,  in  front  of  the 
bushes  at  the  hut's  mouth  —  except  that  now  and 
again  he  would  dart  off  and  drive  in  a  sheep 
which  was  straying  too  far  into  some  thicket  or 
ravine,  and  then  trot  leisurely  back  and  lay  his 
great  head  down  again  on  his  paws  —  came  back 
from  one  of  these  sallies  in  a  state  of  great  ex- 
citement, looking  wildly  every  way,  now  hold- 
ing his  nose  high  up  in  the  air,  now  coming 
and  looking  through  the  overspread  bushes  into 
his  master's  face  with  almost  human  enquiry, 
all  the  while  emitting  a  low,  savage  growl. 

'  Nothing  unusual  was  to  be  seen,  and  nothing 
heard,  yet  the  shepherd  knew  too  well  the  in- 
fallible instincts  of  the  dog,  not  to  be  roused  to 
the  keenest  suspicions.  He  immediately  with- 
drew with  the  dog,  in  the  utmost  silence,  to 
a  place  among  the  rocks,  where,  without  being 
seen  below,  he  could  overlook  every  part  of 
the  flock.  For  a  considerable  time  nothing  ap- 
peared, though  the  dog  could  in  no  way  be 
pacified.  He  looked  constantly  into  his  mas- 
tter's  face,  and  trembled  in  every  limb. 

'At  last  a  slight  rustle  was  audible,  as  if 
in  some  thicket  not  far  away.  Still  for  some 
minutes  nothing  could  be  seen.  Later  a  clump 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

of  hazel  bushes  seemed  agitated  by  the  wind, 
though  there  was  not  a  zephyr  blowing.  The 
next  minute,  surely  enough,  the  expected  game 
hove  in  sight.  Creeping  on  all  fours  towards 
a  fine  buck  that  lay  quietly  chewing  the  cud 
'under  a  shelving  rock,  came  slowly  on  a  huge 
specimen  of  the  mountain  robber. 

'  He  was  bareheaded,  and  having  stripped  him- 
self for  work  by  throwing  off  his  raw  sheepskin 
coat,  he  was  naked  to  the  waist.  The  enormous 
muscles  of  his  great  arms  puffed  up,  like  a 
woman's  bosom,  on  each  shoulder.  His  bushy 
beard,  which  covered  almost  every  part  of  his 
face,  hung  far  down  upon  his  dark-brown  skin 
and  hairy  breast. 

'  He  wore  the  common  calzoni  corti  [shepherd's 
breeches]  made  of  raw  sheepskin  with  the  wool 
outward,  hanging  loose  at  the  knee  and  belted 
at  the  waist  with  a  strong  leathern  strap,  from 
which  hung  a  long  sheath-knife,  a  large  pistol, 
and  a  short,  knotty  club. 

'With  his  wool-coat  on,  which  would  reach  a 
little  below  his  belt,  he  would  pass  for  a  shep- 
herd, and  might  even  be  seen  on  the  road 
carrying  a  lamb  or  sheep  on  his  shoulder  with- 
out arousing  suspicion  in  any  he  should  meet,  un- 
less one  should  notice  the  heavy  boots  he  wore, 
which  reached  to  the  knees  and  did  not  belong, 
132 


OF  MARTIGNY 

surely,  to  a  shepherd's  outfit,  but  served  to  pro- 
tect his  lower  legs  from  the  briers  through  which 
his  profession  would  cause  him  often  to  travel. 

'  Without  making  a  sound,  the  young  shepherd 
rolled  himself  over  the  side  of  the  knoll  on  which 
he  was  lying,  followed  by  the  dog  crouching  like 
a  feline  beast  in  the  act  of  springing  on  its  prey. 
Having  quickly  cut  a  bundle  of  osiers  in  the 
valley,  and  fastened  it  with  one  of  them  upon 
his  shoulder,  he  passed  noiselessly  around,  out  of 
the  sight  of  the  villain,  and  came  with  the  dog  at 
his  heels,  upon  the  top  of  the  overhanging  rock 
under  which  the  thief  was  creeping  for  his  prize. 

'  The  dog  took  in  the  situation  and  awaited  the 
motions  of  his  master.  Presently  a  slight  dis- 
turbance was  heard  below.  The  next  instant  the 
accoutered  thief  emerged  with  the  struggling, 
bleating  buck  on  his  shoulder.  He  was  two  metri 
below  the  shepherd  and  the  crouching  dog  who 
lay  motionless  on  the  rock  and  ready  for  a  spring. 

'  The  next  instant  the  signal  was  given.  The 
dog  leaped  from  his  height  down  full  upon  the 
back  of  the  robber.  The  force  of  the  spring  and 
the  weight  of  the  dog,  coming  with  such  an 
unexpected  shock,  in  addition  to  the  struggles  of 
the  buck,  tumbled  the  scoundrel  forward  heavily 
upon  his  face,  while  the  frightened  buck  ran 
away  bleating  toward  the  sheep. 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

'The  robber  had  scarely  uttered  an  awful 
blasphemy  when  the  dog  had  him  by  the  throat. 
The  next  instant  the  shepherd  was  on  his  back, 
and  thrust  his  head  several  times  violently  down 
upon  the  rock.  Having  drawn  the  sheath-knife 
while  the  robber  was  still  held  by  the  dog,  he 
threatened  to  sever  his  head  from  his  body  if 
he  moved  hand  or  foot  except  as  ordered. 

'  The  first  order  was  to  throw  his  hands  behind 
his  back.  It  was  done;  and  he  firmly  bound 
them  there  with  three  withes  made  from  the 
osiers  which  he  had  cut  in  the  valley.  Then  he 
stripped  his  prisoner  of  the  heavy  boots  and  of 
the  calzoni  corti  with  all  the  artillery  attached  to 
them.  Finally,  having  withed  his  ankles  together 
in  such  a  way  that  he  could  take  very  short  steps, 
he  made  him  rise,  and  driving  him  thus  with  a 
heavy  mule  whip  (which  he  had  brought  with 
him,  and  which  he  had  occasion  to  use  many 
times  with  great  severity  on  the  obstinate  but 
helpless  and  naked  rogue),  he  arrived  safely  at 
the  Carcere  di  citta  [city  prison]  in  the  edge  of 
the  evening. 

'  Women  of  the  lower  class  were  no  longer  in 
the  streets  to  witness  his  humiliation  and  shame ; 
so  that  the  prisoner  escaped,  in  this  regard,  a 
mortification  Which  such  villains  in  our  country 
feel  acutely.  The  gathering  darkness  which  had 

134 


OF  MAR  TIG  NY 

also  sent  home  most  of  the  "  small  boys  "  of  the 
street  protected  him  from  many  indignities  and 
little  unmentionable  outrages.  As  it  was,  only  a 
little  mob  of  a  half-dozen  gamins  surged  round 
him,  like  a  swarm  of  wasps,  pelted  him  with  mud 
and  even  with  small  stones,  and  filled  his  ears 
with  gibes  and  yells. 

'  The  dog  marched  behind  as  a  rear-guard,  car- 
rying the  great  boots  in  his  mouth,  and  with  his 
high-lifted  head  seemed  to  enjoy  the  triumph  of 
the  capture  and  punishment  of  the  gigantic  rogue 
quite  as  much  as  his  master. 

'  The  prison-gate  at  last  closed  upon  the  thief, 
and  the  young  man  saw  him  no  more.  But  the 
next  day  his  young  wife  was  found  in  the  street, 
with  a  babe  at  her  breast,  without  food,  without 
shelter,  without  a  friend. 

'  It  came  to  the  ears  of  the  young  shepherd 
against  whom  the  crimes  had  been  committed. 
He  knew  very  well  how  it  often  happens  in  such 
cases,  that  the  woman  is  not  only  a  concealed 
partner  in  guilt,  but,  being  the  more  intelligent 
party,  has  been,  in  fact,  the  chief  planner  and 
promoter  of  the  crime.  But  he  knew,  also,  as 
well,  that  not  seldom  it  is  wholly  different  —  that 
the  wife  is  the  unsuspecting  victim  of  deception. 
Confiding  in  the  false  statements  of  her  husband, 
whom  she  is  taught  by  nature  to  trust  and  love, 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

she  becomes  an  indirect  promoter  and  party  to 
crimes  of  which  she  has  no  knowledge  nor  sus- 
picion. 

'  How  the  truth  lay  in  this  case  he  could  not 
with  certainty  know.  But,  save  her  intense  in- 
terest in  the  prisoner,  and  her  readiness  to  run 
into  danger  for  his  sake,  to  undergo  suffering  and 
to  risk  everything  in  order  to  see  him  and  to  try 
to  save  him  from  punishment  —  and  what  differ- 
ent from  this,  as  a  good  wife,  could  she  do,  or 
ought  she  to  do?  —  and  she  would  not  believe  him 
guilty  —  or,  even  if  he  were,  should  she  forsake 
him  in  his  trouble  ?  —  aside  from  this,  there  was 
no  evidence  against  her. 

'  He  gave  her  the  benefit  of  the  doubt  —  he 
hoped  of  the  certainty  —  of  her  innocence.  While 
all  others  treated  her  and  the  infant  with  harsh- 
ness or  indifference,  he  who  alone  had  suffered 
from  the  crimes  of  her  husband,  spoke  kindly  to 
her,  brought  her  and  the  child  to  his  house,  gave 
her  food  and  money,  and  sent  them  to  her  rela- 
tions in  Urbino.'  " 

Here  my  companion  took  breath  and  a  draught 
of  ice-water  from  the  stream  at  our  side.  I  had 
offered  her  —  but  she  declined  it  —  some  Lacrima 
Christi  out  of  my  belt-flask.  I  had  brought  a  few 
bottles  in  my  luggage  from  Sicily.  Though  not 
superstitious,  I  was  unwilling  to  drink  to  her 
136 


OF  MARTIGNY 


happiness  in  water.  So,  after  her  draught,  I 
borrowed  her  little  cup  and  drank  her  health 
alone  in  that  peculiarly  Italian  and,  by  those  who 
affect  such  a  wine,  much-prized  liquor. 


TETE  NOIRE. 


137 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 


XIV. 

Why,  now,  Casella  mine,  I  said, 
Has  so  much  anxious  waiting  fled  ?  14 

WHEN  I  heard  of  that  expected  visit,  above 
mentioned,  and  thought  of  that  fine  young 
fellow,  so  worthy  in  himself,  and  enveloped  in 
such  a  pity-inspiring  environment  of  solicitude 
not  unmingled  with  danger  ;  and  when  I  remem- 
bered the  unspeakable  tenderness  native  to  the 
female  heart ;  and  in  particular  the  evident  un- 
usual susceptibility  of  these  two  sentimental 
young  souls  —  born,  too,  not  of  the  stupid  peas- 
ant races  of  the  Swiss  and  Piedmontese  Alps,  but 
of  a  line  drawing  the  hottest  passions  of  central 
Italy  from  Sabinian  Trastevere  commingled  with 
the  infinitely  piquant  blood  of  Southern  France 
—  such  native  susceptibilities  now  harrowed  and 
quickened  by  their  own  grief,  and  made  still 
more  hungry  and  thirsty  for  sympathy  by  the 
loneliness  of  their  mountain-home  ;  —  my  own 
heart  could  not  but  divine  the  possibilities,  or 

138 


OF  MAR  TIG  NY 

rather  imminent  probabilities  of  the  near  ap- 
proaching future,  and  was  overshadowed  by  a 
haze  of  gloomy  anticipations. 

I  foreboded,  I  know  not  what  of  uncanny  cir- 
cumstances. "Ah !  what  a  fearful  thing,"  I  said 
to  myself,  "  is  that  mysterious  magnetism  which 
slumbers  in  the  bosom  of  every  young  son  and 
daughter  of  Adam  !  Gentle  and  beautiful  to  see, 
yet  as  perilous  as  the  terrible  bolt  of  heaven  !  " 

And  from  this  moment,  a  new,  undefined  dis- 
tress on  her  account  came  over  me  ;  and  we 
walked  on  again  in  a  pensive  silence  which  I 
dreaded  to  break,  though  I  desired  as  much  as 
I  feared  to  hear  the  words  that  were  to  come. 

"  Sister  and  I,"  she  at  last  began,  "  did,  as  you 
will  imagine,  all  that  lay  in  our  power  to  make 
our  home  look  attractive  and  the  luncheon  pleas- 
ing to  the  stranger.  We  made  everything  as 
neat  as  wax  within  ;  and  outside,  not  a  little  pol- 
ishing was  done. 

"  The  space  in  front,  around  the  pens  and  sta- 
ble, was  carefully  cleared  ;  the  litter  was  piled 
in  the  best  manner  ;  every  loose  stone  and  stick, 
every  tall  weed  and  thistle  on  the  way  from  the 
house  to  the  road,  was  taken  away  ;  here  and 
there  an  overhanging  bough  of  the  larch  and 
chestnut  trees  was  lopped  off ;  and  the  footpath 
was  swept. 

139 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

"With  our  busy  preparations  and  our  busier 
thoughts  the  week  wore  away.  At  last  the 
day  of  days  arrived.  The  expected  would  ap- 
pear. Would  our  fancies  be  verified?  Would 
our  trembling  hopes  be  realized? 

"We  were  up  and  at  work  before  the  light. 
Bread  of  wheaten  flour  was  baked  ;  cheese  of  the 
nicest  was  brought  out ;  apples  of  the  fairest  were 
selected  ;  the  largest  hazel-nuts  were  cracked  ; 
the  brightest  chestnuts  were  boiled  ;  a  foaming 
pitcher  of  goats'  milk  was  set  in  the  window  of 
the  mountain-ward  pantry  to  cool. 

"  The  table  was  covered  with  snow-white  linen 
which  dear  Mother  spun  and  wove  while  she  and 
Babbo  were  only  promessi.  The  bright  knives  she 
brought  from  France  were  laid  beside  her  wed- 
ding plates.  The  silver  spoons  which  were  also 
a  part  of  her  dowry  glittered  near  the  various 
dishes.  A  flower-vase  in  the  form  of  a  group  of 
S.  S.  Maria  and  Martha  sitting  at  the  feet  of  the 
Saviour  (a  copy  of  a  marble  in  the  Uffizi  Gallery), 
cut  in  alabaster,  which  Babbo  bought  of  a  travel- 
ing artist  from  Firenze  and  gave  to  our  Mother 
the  year  we  were  born,  stood  as  a  center-piece, 
and  was  filled  with  fresh  flowers  from  our  win- 
dow-boxes ;  for  the  frosts  had  already  begun  out- 
side. From  the  same  source  also  we  filled  the 
vase  of  our  Lady  in  her  little  chapel  on  the  oppo- 
140 


OF  MARTIGNY 

site  side  of  the  highway,  as  Babbo  had  promised, 
and  before  noon  all  was  waiting-ready. 

"  Babbo,  who  helped  us  in  everything,  usually  so 
calm  and  silent,  was  that  day  strangely  excited. 
Could  it  all  be  caused  by  the  not  quite  certain 
prospect  of  buying  a  new  dog  ?  Would  it  have 
been  the  same,  if  the  dog  had  belonged  to  a  dif- 
ferent  owner?  —  perhaps  an  old  and  married 
mountaineer?  —  or  if  Babbo  were  not  the  father 
of  two  marriageable  daughters  with  hearts  yet 
free  ? 

"  True,  he  said  little,  as  was  natural  for  him, 
but  he  bustled  around  in  a  way  that  was  most 
uncommon.  There  seemed  also  to  be  a  new  ex- 
pression on  his  face,  which  was  able,  we  thought, 
to  mean  much  or  little.  We  could  not  decide 
what  it  meant,  but  neither  Maria  nor  I  thought 
it  boded  any  ill.  He  did  not  appear  worried.  On 
the  contrary,  he  seemed  pleased  with  his  own 
thoughts,  and  much  of  the  time  to  be  lost  in  a 
gentle  reverie. 

"  But  what  was  he  thinking  of  ?  —  what  was  it 
that  so  fixedly  and  not  unpleasantly  absorbed  his 
meditations  ?  We  spoke  of  it  to  each  other,  but 
did  not  suggest  any  answer  to  one  another,  though 
perhaps  the  heart  of  each  whispered  a  possible 
answer  to  herself.  Maria's  countenance  looked 
to  me  wondrous  wistful  that  morning,  and  it  may 
141 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

be  mine  looked  the  same  to  her.  Who  could  tell  ? 
'  Ah,  the  dear  girl ! '  I  said  to  myself,  '  how  truly 
and  how  much  we  all  live  alone  in  this  world  — 
even  in  the  midst  of  our  closest  intimacies  ! ' 

"  Soon  after  midday  Babbo  put  on  his  Sunday 
clothes  and  sat  in  the  shade  of  the  great  chest- 
nut tree  at  the  roadside,  and  Sister  and  I  scam- 
pered up  to  our  chamber  to  put  ourselves  in  the 
best  order  we  could.  We  braided  and  tied  our 
hair  with  ribbons  —  Maria  with  blue,  I  with  pink. 
We  had  silver  combs  which  were  quite  the  same 
to  look  at,  but  Sister's  was  far  more  precious  to 
us,  because  it  had  been  dear  Mother's.  It  had 
been  an  heirloom  of  the  eldest  daughter  for  I 
do  n't  know  how  many  generations.  The  other 
was  a  gift,  we  never  certainly  knew  by  whom. 

"  Some  months  before  dear  Mother  left  us,  an 
unknown  gentleman  overtaken  in  a  storm,  had 
begged  a  lodging  and  had  been  entertained  as 
best  we  could  in  our  home.  Sister  and  I  gave  up 
our  chamber  to  him.  During  the  evening  we 
had  playfully  bantered  each  other  which  of  us 
would  get  married  first  in  order  to  be  dowered 
with  Mother's  silver  comb  which  happened  to  be 
lying  on  the  table.  The  gentleman  took  up  the 
comb  and  examined  it ;  and  when  he  laid  it  down, 
he  looked  at  us  with  a  curious  smile,  but  said 
nothing.  Who  he  was  or  where  he  lived,  we 
142 


OF  MARTI GNY 

never  knew ;  but  not  many  weeks  afterward,  it 
was  the  next  Christmas  Eve,  a  match  to  the  heir- 
loom comb  came  with  the  post,  and  we  guessed, 
but  this  was  all  we  knew.  After  dear  Mother 
was  gone,  by  Babbo's  wish  we  drew  lots,  and  the 
stranger  comb  fell  to  me.  So  the  dower  was 
ready  for  each,  but,  alas,  was  never  needed. 

"  We  put  our  best  gowns  on,  which  were  of  the 
same  purplish-gray  woolen  cloth,  cut  alike  and 
not  distinguished  from  each  other,  except  by  the 
rosettes  at  the  top  of  the  bodice  in  front  Maria's 
was  blue,  mine  of  a  pale  rose  color."  Putting  her 
hand  to  her  neck,  and  lifting  the  white  kerchief 
that  was  pinned  at  the  bosom  with  a  silver  brooch, 
she  added,  "  I  wore  this  pink  rosary  and  sister  one 
of  blue.  Babbo  gave  us  these  the  day  we  were 
confirmed. 

"Of  course,  each  of  us  tried  to  make  herself 
look  as  agreeable,  and  to  say  the  truth,  as  desira- 
ble, as  possible  ;  and  we  honestly  tried  to  help 
each  other  do  it.  It  was  a  competition  —  cer- 
tainly an  unselfish  competition,  if  there  is  such 
a  thing  —  and  in  our  girlish  hearts  we  hoped  — 
I  do  n't  know  what  we  hoped  —  and  then  we 
descended  together  and  sat  down  at  the  win- 
dow, knitting  and  eagerly  looking  for  the  com- 
ing of  the  expected  visitor. 

"  Needles  rattled,  tongues  chattered,  stockings 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

grew,  but  no  visitor  came.  Babbo  rose  from  his 
seat  many  times,  walked  a  piece  up  the  road, 
straining  his  sight  in  the  direction  of  the  Hos- 
pice, and  returning  sat  down  again  to  wait  as 
before. 

"  After  a  time,  enforced  idleness  became  unen- 
durable to  Babbo.  He  pulled  from  his  pocket  a 
roll  of  strands  cut  from  the  tanned  skin  of  a  pole- 
cat, and  having  fastened  one  end  to  the  rough 
bark  of  the  tree,  he  began  to  braid  them  into  the 
lash  of  a  mule-whip.  He  worked  on  excitedly, 
his  arms  twitched  nervously,  and  the  work  grew 
apace.  He  did  not  once  look  up,  neither  along 
the  road,  nor  toward  the  house. 

"At  last  our  balls  of  yarn  became  small,  our 
stockings  became  large,  and  Babbtfs  lash  was 
finished,  but  no  visitor  appeared.  Babbo  trimmed 
the  ends  of  the  strands,  cut  his  work  loose  from 
the  tree,  rolled  and  rubbed  it  smooth,  and  folded 
and  put  it  in  his  pocket.  The  shadows  were 
already  growing  long.  The  slanting  sun  was 
glistening  across  the  Tete  Noire  upon  the  white 
top  of  Mons  Buet  and  reddening  the  Aiguilles  about 
Mont  Blanc.  Babbo  started  up  with  a  spring  and 
came  briskly  toward  the  house,  with  his  eyes  on 
the  ground  as  if  in  deep  meditation. 

"  As  he  burst  open  the  door  he  exclaimed  : 
'  Well,  girls,  we  have  been  finely  fooled.  I  don't 
144 


even  know  his  name  —  the  slippery  rogue.  It 
may  be  a  good  joke  for  him.  It  will  be  a  nice 
piece  of  fun,  to  make  merry  over  with  his  com- 
rades. But  I  would  n't  have  believed  it  of  him. 
I  would  have  trusted  him  a  hundred  times  as 
much.  He  seemed  such  a  frank  and  earnest  lad. 
Besides,  there  was  just  a  little  sadness  in  his 
manner,  that  made  one  pity  and  be  the  more 
ready  to  believe  him.  But  —  but  —  the  Old 
Scratch  is  always  ready  to  steal  the  other  liv- 
ery to  do  his  own  pranks  in.' 

"  I  had  often  heard  of  the  practical  jokes  — 
sometimes  very  serious,  indeed, —  played  by  the 
Lombard  travelers  in  their  journeys  on  country- 
men and  on  one  another,  so  that  my  intellect  sup- 
ported the  suspicions  of  Babbo.  But  my  heart, 
all  the  same,  revolted  against  the  thought.  I 
could  n't  allow  the  pleasant  pictures  of  my  fancy 
to  be  so  pitilessly  wiped  out  —  worst  of  all  that 
my  profoundest  sentiments  and  serious  interests 
should  be  turned  into  a  comedy  so  ridiculous. 

" '  Is  n't  it  possible,  Babbo  dear,'  I  said  (for  I 
must  find  some  reply),  'is  n't  it  possible  that  you 
mistook  the  day  ? ' 

— '  I  thought  of  that,'  he  said,  but  no,  it  is  n't 
possible.  The  young  fellow  said  to  me  plainly, 
"This  is  Tuesday /#  festa  della  Nathnta  della  Beata 
Maria  [the  feast  of  the  Nativity  of  the  B.  V.]. 

H5 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

Next  week  Thursday  I  shall  be  here  again. 
That  will  be  the  festa  della  Sacre  Stimmate  [feast 
of  the  Imprinting  of  the  Wounds  of  Our  Lord 
on  the  body  of  S.  Francis].15  I  am  to  bring 
here  some  special  wine,  as  the  Bishop  of  Aosta 
and  the  Prior  of  St.  Orso  are  to  visit  the  Hospice 
on  that  day.  I  shall  get  here  the  night  before. 
On  the  day  of  the  Stimmate  I  shall  go  to  Mar- 
tigny."  Is  n't  it  Thursday  to-day,  and  is  n't  it 
the  feast  of  the  Sacre  Stimmate?  Did  n't  the 
priest  say  so,  at  Mass,  last  Sunday?  How  can 
there,  then,  be  any  mistake  about  the  time  ? ' 

"  I  was  silenced  in  that  direction.  '  But,'  I 
persisted,  '  he  may  be  sick.' 

— '  I  don't  think  so,'  he  replied,  '  for  the  prom- 
ised wine  must  be  sent,  in  that  case, by  another ;  and 
if  he  were  an  honorable  youth,  the  other  would  be 
required  to  stop  on  his  way  and  inform  us.' 

— 'The  other  may  have  forgotten  it,'  I  still 
insisted. 

— '  That  can't  be,'  he  said,  '  for  I  have  sen- 
tinelled the  road  since  eleven  o'clock,  and  no 
such  person  has  passed.' 

—  'Why,  Babbo  dear,'  I  replied,  ' Maria  and  I 
saw  several  parties  go  by,  though  we  were  too 
far  away  to  distinguish  who  they  were.' 

— 'To  be  sure,'  he  answered,  'two  companies 
of  English  travelers  with  mules  and  guide  went 
146 


OF  MARTI GNY 

toward  Martigny  before  I  came  in  to  dress,  and 
three  German  men  and  a  Fraiilein  went  by 
together  on  foot  toward  the  Hospice  while  I  was 
sitting  by  the  roadside.' 

— '  Could  n't  something  have  escaped  you  while 
you  were  dressing  ? ' 

— ' Sicuro  no!  for  besides  that  I  have  kept  a 
constant  watch  with  ears  and  eyes,  I  have  ex- 
amined the  road  for  tracks.  There  are  none, 
except  those  of  the  Englishman's  party  going 
toward  Martigny.' 

"  This  was  unanswerable  ;  and  we  stood  awhile 
in  silence  around  the  hearth,  looking  at  the 
smoking  embers.  At  last  Maria,  who  had  n't 
spoken,  though  her  cheeks  were  ablaze,  and  her 
soft,  dark  eyes,  swimming  with  vexation  and 
anxiety,  had  been  lifted  and  fixed  on  me  while 
I  was  pleading  for  the  young  man,  but  were 
now  again  staring  into  the  embers,  murmured 
almost  in  a  whisper  and  without  moving  her 
eyes  from  the  fire  : 

— '  Could  n't  he  have  fallen  into  the  water  at 
the  Liddes'  bridge  ?  —  the  flood,  you  know,  about 
two  days  ago,  might  — ' 

— '  Mon  dieu ! '  I  screamed,  '  I  had  n't  thought 
of  that  —  he  might !  —  he  might !  — ' 

— '  Peace,  child ! '  said  Babbo,  firmly.  '  Of  course, 
it  's  possible,  but  the  water  there  is  n't  above  a 

147 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

metro  deep —  except,  may  be,  in  the  holes  and 
eddies  —  and  he  is  an  uncommon  large,  strong 
youth  —  though  the  mule  might  —  yes,  he  might 
slip  on  the  smooth  stones,  or  catch  his  hoof  be- 
tween the  rocks — one  way  and  another,  he  might 
stumble  and  fall  on  his  rider,  and  the  load  might 
come  uppermost  of  all  —  certo,  certo,  the  young  fel- 
low's head  might  —  sicuro,  it  might  strike  one  of 
those  sharp  rocks  —  and  then  to  be  sure,  even  at 
this  season,  he  might  get  benumbed  by  the  wet- 
ting —  so  near  the  glaciers  of  Monte  Velano  —  the 
water  there  must  be  cool — yes,  Maria,  it  is  possi- 
ble —  the  more  I  think  of  it,  the  more  possible  — 
I  do  n't  know  but  I  might  say  the  more  likely  it 
seems.' 

"  The  fact  was,  and  we  knew  it  well,  though  till 
then  it  had  made  no  impression  upon  us,  that  two 
days  before  this  it  had  rained  for  a  day  and  a 
night  and  the  melted  snow  had  swollen  the 
streams  into  torrents,  and  had  carried  away  the 
bridge,  about  a  half  hour  beyond  our  home." 

The  peculiar  danger  of  this  place  at  this  time 
was  (as  my  fair  companion  explained),  that,  in 
building  the  bridge,  in  order  to  meet  squarely  a 
bend  in  the  channel,  and  to  secure  rocky  but- 
tresses at  each  end,  the  structure  had  been  placed 
by  its  whole  breadth  up  the  stream»from  the  line 
of  the  beaten  track  of  the  road ;  and  during  the 
148 


OF  MARTIGNY 

drier  parts  of  the  summer,  when  the  stream  was 
low,  only  foot-passengers  turned  to  go  over  the 
bridge,  while  all  vehicles  and  animals  went 
straight  across  by  the  ford. 

The  worn  track,  therefore,  led  directly  down  to 
the  water  on  either  side,  and  the  stream  spread 
out  so  wide  there,  and  the  banks  had  so  gentle  a 
slope,  that  it  was  sure  to  appear  to  a  stranger, 
even  when  swollen  to  the  highest,  to  be  a  safe 
and  constantly-used  ford,  though  it  was,  at  such 
times,  exceedingly  dangerous,  both  on  account  of 
the  jagged  rocks  at  the  bottom,  and  because  of 
several  deep  fissures  or  pits  just  below  the  trav- 
eled path. 

"  As  soon  as  all  this  occurred  to  our  thoughts," 
she  continued,  "  we  all  admitted  the  danger,  and 
felt  alarmed  for  the  safety  of  our  delaying  guest. 
A  moment  of  silence  followed,  during  which 
we  all  mechanically  strayed  toward  the  window 
which  looks  up  the  road  in  the  direction  of  the 
bridge,  and  Babbo  repeated  with  much  emphasis  : 

— '  You  are  right,  Maria  —  it  is  possible  —  it  is 
possible.' 

— '  Could  n't  you  ?  —  could  n't  you  go  ?  —  and  — 
and  see  ?  —  Babbo  dear  —  before  —  before  dark  ? ' 
Maria  stammered  out,  softly. 

— '  Yes,  yes,  Babbo,  do,'  I  eagerly  blurted  in,  '  do 
take  — ' 

149 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

"  But  while  I  was  speaking,  Babbo  suddenly  laid 
one  hand  on  my  shoulder,  and,  with  the  other 
pointing  up  the  road  where,  making  a  sharp  turn, 
the  track  first  comes  into  view,  interrupted  me 
with  : 

— 'There!  —  there  !—  he's  coming  now,  I  do 
believe.' 

"We  looked  and  saw  something  coming,  but 
the  distance  was  too  great  clearly  to  distinguish 
what  it  was. 

— '  He  can't  get  to  Martigny  to-night,'  Maria 
whispered. 

— '  We  can  give  him  our  chamber,'  I  added. 

— '  Hush,  hush  !  girls,'  Babbo  exclaimed  at  that 
moment,  '  Dio  in  cielo!  what  is  this  ? ' 

"At  that  instant  we  began  to  distinguish  a  man 
walking  towards  us  at  the  top  of  his  speed.  As 
he  came  nearer,  we  could  see  that  he  carried  his 
broad-brimmed  hat  in  one  hand,  which  he  was 
swinging  in  great  circles  through  the  air,  and 
with  the  other  hand  was  making  a  huge  walking- 
stick  take  three  league  strides  along  the  path, 
while  his  unbuttoned  coat  sailed  out  behind  him 
in  the  stiff  breeze  he  was  partly  facing.  A  min- 
ute later,  Babbo  recognized  the  figure,  and  saying 
'  'Tis  one  of  the  German  men  who  passed  here 
since  noon,'  hurried  out  of  the  house  and  down 
the  footpath  to  the  road,  followed  by  us  both. 

150 


OF  MARTIGNY 

"  We  were  hardly  arrived  on  the  margin  of  the 
highway,  when  the  stranger,  fifty  metri  away, 
without  any  salutation,  and  panting  heavily, 
jerked  out  to  us  : 

— '  Es  gibt  —  ein  —  ungliichlicher  —  Zufall — zu  der 
Briicke '  [there's  an  accident  at  the  bridge]  — 

"  At  this  verification  of  our  foreboding  conject- 
ures, our  hearts  rose  into  our  throats.  The  truth 
was  flashed  upon  us,  and  for  the  moment  we  were 
too  dazed  to  speak. 

— '  Sie  miissen  — fort —  und  Ihr  Maulthier  —  mit ' 
[you  must  go  there  with  your  mule],  he  contin- 
ued, in  pushing  past  us,  not  waiting  for  permis- 
sion or  reply,  making  for  the  stable  to  get  the 
mule. 

"  We  all  hurried  back  with  him  in  silence,  and 
amidst  his  frantic  pantomime,  harnessed  and  led 
out  Nicodemo,  our  oldest  mule,  and  driving  him  on 
before  us,  started  with  the  stranger  rapidly  up 
the  road. 

"  Walking  on  every  side  of  him,  pell-mell,  we 
soon  began  to  shower  upon  him  answerable  and 
unanswerable  questions,  while  he  was  ever  and 
anon  goading  and  slapping  the  poor  Maulthier, 
and  himself  puffing  so  powerfully  that  we  made 
out  nothing  at  first  from  his  talk.  By  degrees  he 
became  more  composed,  and  at  last  gave  us  an 
intelligent  story.  Of  course,  like  every  Tedeseo, 

151 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

he  lingered  on  unnecessary  details,  while  we  were 
frantic  to  hear  two  or  three  important  words. 

"  He  and  his  companions,  on  arriving  at  the 
bridge,  found  it  carried  away.  A  temporary 
structure  for  crossing  was  in  sight.  But,  since 
the  passage  for  travel  opened  up  to  it  was  by  a 
detour  around  a  considerable  bend  in  the  stream, 
through  a  fir  forest  on  a  rather  steep  acclivity,  it 
became  a  matter  of  some  hindrance  and  difficulty 
to  reach  it. 

"Accordingly,  they  went  to  the  buttresses  of 
the  old  bridge,  hoping  to  find  some  way  by  which 
foot-passengers,  at  least,  might  get  over  without 
taking  the  long  circuit  on  the  hillside.  While 
standing  there,  looking  up  and  down  the  stream, 
one  of  the  party  observed  something  whirling  in 
a  frothy  eddy  and  held  from  going  down-stream 
by  the  stones  and  bushes  on  the  lower  side. 
Alarm  was  given.  With  much  difficulty,  being 
a  heavy  object  and  lying  nearer  the  farther  bank, 
it  was  at  last  pulled  upon  dry  ground.  It  proved 
to  be  a  case  of  Mantuan  '  Rosolio? 16  The  case  was 
marked  Luigi  Donati.  This  name  in  itself  meant 
nothing  to  us,  for  we  had  not  heard  it  before. 
Nevertheless,  it  startled  us  and  seemed  to  clinch 
our  gravest  fears.  Searching  now  further  down 
the  bank,  another  similar  case  was  found,  and 


152 


OF  MARTIGNY 

with  it  a  piece  of  the  strap  by  which  it  had  been 
hung  over  the  back  of  the  beast. 

"  Curiosity  now  gave  place  to  alarm.  Search- 
ing up  and  down  the  stream,  and  shouting  to  one 
another  from  time  to  time,  as  some  new  sign  ap- 
peared, or  some  new  thought  was  suggested,  a 
rustling  was  heard  in  the  twigs  at  some  distance 
from  the  bank. 

"  Thinking  the  owner  of  the  wine  had  now  been 
found  —  and  possibly  in  some  sorry  plight  —  the 
men  left  the  Fraiilein  below  with  the  cases,  and 
clambered  up  the  hillside  in  the  direction  of  the 
noise.  Coming  to  an  eminence  which  looked 
down  into  a  little  ravine,  they  saw  a  mule  below 
them  grazing.  The  beast  was  covered  from  head 
to  haunch  and  from  haunch  to  hoof  with  dried 
mud.  It  was  plain  that  he  had  been  drenched  in 
the  stream  and  had  rolled  himself  in  the  dust 
of  the  road-track.  But  where  was  the  rider,  or 
rather  the  driver  ?  —  for  the  mule  had  been  fully 
loaded. 

— '  We  had  n't  suspected  before,'  said  the  man, 
'  that  any  really  serious  accident  had  happened  — 
I  mean,'  he  added,  '  that  it  was  a  matter  of  life 
and  death  — ' 

—lMein  Gott!'  I  shrieked,  'tsf  er  nun  todtt' 
Maria,  meantime,  sobbed  and  moaned  softly. 


153 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

— 'I  didn't  say  he  was  todt '  [dead],  continued 
the  man,  '  but  the  mule  was  all  we  found  there  — 

— '  San  Martina  ! '  I  exclaimed,  '  you  did  n't  give 
it  up  so  !  — ' 

— '  'Scht !  Kindlein '  [baby],  said  the  man,  gruffly, 
I  was  going  to  tell  you  that  we  went  off  searching 
again,  Fraiilein  and  all,  looking  everywhere,  push- 
ing into  the  bushes,  and  peering  into  every  nook. 
Suddenly  the  Fraiilein  said  : 

'  Stille,  stille  !  —  ich  bilde  mir  ein  dass  ich  ein  s to /men 
gehort  habe'  [I  think  I  heard  a  groan]. 

'Then  we  all  came  close  to  her  and  listened 
for  the  groaning  she  fancied  she  had  heard.  But 
we  heard  nothing  save  the  rushing  of  the  water 
and  a  soft  roaring  of  the  wind  in  the  tops  of  the 
fir-trees.  Suddenly  she  cried  out  again  : 

'  Jai  Ja  •  n°ch  einmal  habe  ich  es  gehort '  [Yes,  yes! 
I  heard  it  again].  Still,  neither  of  us  men  could 
distinguish  anything  of  the  kind.  Presently  she 
almost  screamed  : 

'  Ja  wohl,  ja  ivohl,  noch  einmal! — Da  geht  es  !  — 
Es  tont  driiben  ! '  [Yes,  indeed,  there  it  goes  again 
over  there],  and  pointing  in  a  direction  further 
back  from  the  stream,  she  began  to  run  thither. 

"  Then  the  man  went  on  to  describe  how  they 
all  followed  the  Fraiilein  up  a  knoll  sparsely  set 
with  mountain  oaks  and  with  many  large  bowl- 
ders lying  around.  Presently  they  all  could  dis- 

154 


OF  MARTIGNY 

tinctly  hear  a  feeble  groaning,  but  no  one  could 
tell  exactly  from  whence  it  came.  Sometimes  it 
seemed  to  come  from  the  tree-tops,  and  they  went 
straining  their  sight  up  into  the  thick  boughs,  in 
vain.  Again  they  were  sure  it  came  from  among 
the  rocks,  and  finally  with  this  conviction  they 
separated,  each  undertaking  separately  one  part  < 
of  the  knoll  to  search  thoroughly. 

' It  was  not  long,'  said  the  man,  'before  I  heard 
the  groans  growing  nearer  and  clearer  at  every 
step.  I  now  felt  sure  of  the  game.  Pressing 
on  almost  in  a  certainty  of  presently  making  the 
great  discovery,  I  came  to  a  very  large  bowlder. 
It  was  almost  a  cliff.  Here  the  sounds  died 
wholly  away.  I  seemed  to  have  approached  and 
to  be  very  near  to  the  spot  whence  the  sounds 
proceeded,  but  it  was  not  apparent  how  I  could 
approach  nearer  and  I  was  perplexed. 

'The  rock  on  the  side  where  I  approached  it 
was  precipitous.  The  two  faces  on  either  hand 
slanted  gradually  to  the  ground,  so  that  although 
the  flattened  top  was  very  high,  it  could  all  be 
seen  from  a  little  distance  away  ;  and  surely  there 
was  no  hiding-place  upon  it.  The  rear,  however, 
that  is  to  say,  the  side  most  distant  from  where  I 
stood,  seemed  to  project  far  over  like  a  shelf,  but 
the  ground  in  that  direction  was  so  steep  and 
broken  that  I  could  not  approach  it  directly.  I 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

retraced  my  steps,  therefore,  a  considerable  piece, 
and  in  making  the  necessary  circuit,  I  fell  in  with 
a  well-worn  sheep-path  which  ran  winding  along 
in  the  direction  I  was  seeking  to  go.  Following 
this  track,  the  sounds  were  soon  renewed,  and  the 
growing  distinctness  of  them  convinced  me  that 
I  was  coming  near  the  object  of  my  search.  As 
I  turned  a  corner  of  the  projecting  rock,  I  saw  in 
another  minute  that  the  groans  did  not  proceed 
from  a  human  voice  — ' 

— '  Himmel  sei  Dank  !  —  es  ist  ein  verwundener  wolf 
gewesen '  [Thank  heaven  !  'twas  a  wounded  wolf], 
broke  in  our  Babbo.  '  How  many  times  I've  been 
cheated  so  by  one  of  these  wounded  villains. 
These  beasts  will  imitate  the  groans  of  a  man 
to  perfection.  I've  thought,  then,  may  be  't  was 
the  soul  of  some  scoundrel  whom  even  DANTE 
did  n't  tell  of.  May  be  they  hunted  and  worried 
the  sheep  of  the  Great  Shepherd  and  have  been 
put  into  the  bodies  of  the  beasts  they  imitated 
before  they  are  shut  down  in  the  Inferno, —  but 
did  you  kill  him  ?  —  did  you  slay  the  rascal  ? ' 

"  You  may  wonder  how  Babbo  could  so  easily 
forget  the  anxious  errand  we  were  on  and  be- 
come so  interested  in  the  matter  of  a  wounded 
wolf.  The  fact  is,  that  there  is  nothing  like  the 
name  or  thought  of  a  wolf  —  the  cruel  and  ever- 
pursuing  foe  of  the  defenceless  creatures  his 

156 


whole  life  is  given  up  to  feeding  and  protecting 
—  no  other  idea  which  sets  him  so  beside  himself 
with  fear  and  rage,  as  the  bare  suspicion  that 
there  may  be  a  sheep-slayer,  or  a  gang  of  them 
abroad  in  the  neighborhood. 

— '  Wasfiir  ein  Wolf  ist  es  ?  '  [what  wolf]  rejoined 
the  man,  impatiently.  '  What  have  I  said  about 
a  wolf?  I  saw  just  before  me  a  huge,  shaggy, 
grizzly-white  dog,  lying  with  his  head  on  his  fore 
paws  and  groaning  like  a  dying  man. 

'  Just  back  of  the  dog,  under  the  overhanging 
rock,  the  wind  had  piled  deep  windrows  of  leaves. 
Roused  by  the  noise  of  my  steps,  the  dog  lifted 
his  head,  glared  on  me  for  an  instant,  then  with 
a  tremulous  yell  bounded  over  the  windrows  to 
the  further  end  of  the  chasm  ;  then,  throwing  his 
head  back  upon  his  shoulder  towards  me,  stood 
stark  as  a  statue  with  nose  pointed  to  the  sky, 
emitting  a  swift  stream  of  mournful,  piercing 
notes  that  ran  irregularly  up  and  down  to  the 
extreme  limits  of  the  canine  gamut. 

'  I  had  no  longer  any  doubt  that  I  had  found 
the  master,  and  I  at  once  gave  a  shout  that  was 
answered  by  my  companions,  and  ran  to  the  dog, 
who  with  paws  and  snout  was  swiftly  opening  a 
windrow  of  leaves,  which  flew  high  about  him  in 
the  wind,  and  ere  I  arrived  where  he  stood,  he 
had  uncovered  a  man's  body  — ' 

157 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

— '  Was  he  alive  ?  —  does  he  still  live  ? '  we  all 
broke  in  together. 

"  Disregarding  our  queries,  the  man  went  right 
on  :  '  His  eyes  were  closed  and  we  could  n't  by 
word  or  touch  get  any  sign  of  consciousness  from 
him  — ' 

— 'Was  he  really  already  dead?  —  were  you 
sure  ?  —  did  you  try  ? '  we  all  broke  in  again 
together,  but  he  went  on  regardless : 

— '  The  body  was  still  warm ' —  we  interject- 
ing : 

— '  Did  n't  he  breathe  ?  —  did  his  heart  beat  ?  — 

"  But  the  man  quietly  continued  : 

— 'And  we  could  n't  certainly  tell,  but  we 
thought  he  breathed  very,  very  gently,  and  I 
was  sure  I  felt  a  soft  throbbing  in  his  breast  — 

— '  Himmel  set  Dank  ! '  softly  sighed  Marie  and  I, 
while  Babbo  almost  screamed  : 

— ' Aquavite !  —  Eau  de  vie!  —  Branntwein!'  or 
did  n't  you  have  any  along?" 

"The  imperturbable  German,  without  trying 
to  answer  our  questions,  or  even  seeming  to  no- 
tice our  interruptions,  proceeded  : 

— '  The  Fraiilein  was  sent  back  to  the  luggage 
—  that  is,  the  knapsacks  which  we  slipped  off  and 
left  at  the  bridge  —  and  charged  to  open  and 
bring  whatever  she  thought  would  be  useful  for 
the  sufferer. 

158 


OF  MARTIGNY 

'  We  men  carried  the  body  quickly  into  a  sunny 
nook  among  the  rocks  and  laid  it  on  the  soft, 
warm  sod.  We  stripped  it  of  the  wet  clothing, 
and  without  waiting  an  instant  for  anything 
else,  we  swiftly  set  about  drying  it  with  our  ker- 
chiefs and  chafing  it  with  our  woolen  blouses  ; 
and  as  soon  as  the  Fraulein  returned  with  sup- 
plies, we  wrapped  it  in  a  traveling  blanket,  put  a 
spoonful  of  brandy  into  the  mouth,  put  plasters 
on  the  bruises,  and  tied  up  with  a  kerchief  the 
battered  face. 

'  The  greatest  difficulty  of  all  now  stared  us  in 
the  face  —  how  to  replace  the  soaked  and  muddy 
clothing  with  sufficient  covering  warm  and  dry. 
Neither  of  us  had  any  extra  clothing  in  our  packs. 
We  dared  not  carry  the  body  merely  wrapped  as 
it  was  into  the  chilly  wind  that  swept  along  the 
traveled  road-track.  There  was  no  house  within 
an  hour's  time  going  and  returning.  The  slant- 
ing sun  of  the  late  afternoon  warned  us  that  what- 
ever was  done  must  be  done  quickly. 

'  While  we  were  holding  an  anxious  consulta- 
tion, without  saying  a  word,  the  Fraulein  disap- 
peared and  in  five  minutes  returned,  waving  in 
her  hand  a  blue  flannel  petticoat,  and  saying,  as 
she  laid  it  at  the  feet  of  the  body,  "  Could  n't  this 
be  used  in  some  way  ?  "  She  presently  added,  "  I 


159 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

have  a  warm  hood  in  my  pack,"  and  again  disap- 
peared in  the  direction  of  the  luggage. 

'  We  men  took  a  hint  from  her  example  ;  and 
before  she  returned,  the  patient  was  wearing  an 
underwrapper  and  a  cardigan  with  stockings  and 
long,  knitted  leggins,  contributed  partly  by  my 
companion  and  partly  by  me.  The  petticoat  was 
afterward  put  on  and  the  blanket  pinned  tightly 
about  from  shoulders  to  feet.  The  Fraiileins 
hood  was  soon  added,  and  the  whole  burden  and 
outfit  was  laid  on  a  bed  of  fir-boughs,  with  a  bun- 
dle of  twigs  for  a  pillow. 

'  This  extemporized  hospital  was  put  in  charge 
of  the  Fraiilein,  with  brandy  and  water  to  put  a 
spoonful  from  time  to  time  to  the  lips.  It  re- 
mained to  gather  up  the  scattered  and  broken 
parts  of  the  harness,  to  make  an  ambulance  of 
boughs,  and  put  the  demoralized  mule  in  order 
for  renewing  the  march.  This  I  left  Dietrich  to 
do,  and  started  after  the  first  man  and  mule  to  be 
found  for  moving  the  poor  fellow  to  some  shelter.' 

"  After  a  moment's  pause,  while  we  were  silent 
in  the  first  shock  of  doubt,  he  added  : 

— '  He'll  need  it,  too  — ja  wohl  [yes,  indeed]  — 
God  knows  how  long  —  if  ever  he  pulls  through 
at  all  —  which  heaven  grant  he  may.' 

— '  He    must  —  he  must    be  brought  —  to  our 
home,'  said  Maria,  softly,  and  with  a  little  hesi- 
160 


OF  MARTIGNY 

tation.  I  had  thought  the  same,  yet  hesitated 
to  say  so,  and  Babbo  now  added  with  great  em- 
phasis : 

— '  Yes,  surely,  he  must  come  to  us.' 

— ' Maria  and  I,  then,'  I  said,  'had  better  turn 
back  now  —  for  why  should  we  go  further  —  and 
get  things  ready  there.' 

— "fa,  ja,  that's  a  prudent  Fraulein,'  said  the 
man. 

"  Turning  to  Babbo,  I  asked  :  '  Put  him  in  the 
Salotto  [reception-room],  I  suppose  ? '  This  rather 
grand  name  we  gave  in  playful  irony  to  the  tiny 
sitting-room  directly  under  our  bedroom. 

— '  Sicuro,  sicuro,'  said  Babbo,  'where  else?  Bring 
down  the  cot  from  the  garret  and  your  blessed 
Mamma's  French  rocker  from  your  chamber. 
You  won't  need  it  there  while  he  is  with  us.' 

— '  Nor  will  he  need  it  much  below,  I  fancy,  for 
some  while  yet,'  I  said. 

— '  But  watchers  may,'  he  replied. 

"  As  we  started  to  return,  Maria,  looking  over 
her  shoulder,  said  : 

— '  Where  is  the  dog  ? ' 

"  Her  soft  voice  was  n't  heard,  and  I  repeated 
the  question  : 

— '  Where  is  the  dog  ? ' 

— '  He'll  be  with  his  master,  you  may  depend,' 
replied  the  man,  throwing  the  answer  over  his 
161 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

shoulder  after  us,  for  we  were  already  twenty 
steps  away,  and  he  and  Babbo  were  swiftly  hur- 
rying on  with  the  mule. 

"We  held  it  now  for  a  certainty  who  the 
wounded  master  must  be,  and  our  hearts  were 
full  of  conflicting  emotions,  but  the  matter  even 
then  was  too  sacred  to  each  of  us,  even  us  sisters, 
to  talk  of  ;  nor  had  a  word  been  said  to  the  man, 
of  our  relations  with  the  youth  or  his  dog." 


LEONCELLO  DA  MENTOVA. 


162 


OF  MARTIGNY 


XV. 

' '  God  hath  chosen  the  things  that  are  not  to  bring  to  naught 
things  that  are."  BIBLE. 

^  r^vISREGARDING,  for  this  once,  the  hasty 
I—/  injunction  of  Babbo  about  the  cot,  after 
some  deliberation  we  brought,  instead,  from  our 
eyry-chamber  in  the  roof,  the  bed  on  which  Maria 
and  I  slept,  and  put  it  in  order  in  the  Salotto  be- 
low. We  had  our  own  reasons  for  this  which  we 
deemed  imperative. 

"  This  bedstead  was  a  beauty  and  had  a  history. 
It  had  once  stood  for  many  years  in  the  Salotto 
with  a  small  bureau  and  a  little  table.  All  were 
of  beautifully  figured  French-walnut.  A  large 
ebony-framed  mirror  hung  on  the  wall  opposite 
to  where  we  now  placed  the  bed.  All  these  ele- 
gant pieces  came  to  my  grandfather  in  a  mys- 
terious way  which  has  never  yet  been  fully  ex- 
plained. 

"  About  the  time  the  French  King  and  Queen 
were  murdered,  an  unknown  gentleman  came  and 
lived  for  more  than  a  year  in  that  room  with  a 
163 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

glorious  lady  who  was  his  wife.  They  came  with- 
out any  servant,  and  arrived  in  the  evening  after 
it  was  dark. 

"  The  gentleman  had  plenty  of  gold  in  his  pock- 
ets, and  the  lady  many  jewels.  The  furniture 
came  as  mysteriously  as  the  persons.  One  morn- 
ing when  my  nonnino  [grandpapa]  first  opened 
the  door  to  go  to  the  flocks,  these  articles  and 
some  others  were  standing  there  on  the  sod. 

"These  gentle  guests  revealed  nothing  what- 
ever about  themselves.  So  far  as  was  known, 
they  wrote  no  letters,  nor  received  any;  and  they 
never  went  abroad,  except  into  the  mountain 
glens  on  pleasant  days.  It  has  been  fancied  that 
the  place  was  chosen  both  on  account  of  its  re- 
moteness and  because  it  was  so  near  the  frontiers 
of  three  nations.  But  why  they  needed  to  be  hid 
was  never  known. 

"  At  last,  one  morning  in  autumn,  a  messenger 
on  horseback,  in  the  uniform  of  a  French  officer 
of  high  grade,  came  with  a  letter  and  a  packet. 
There  came  with  him  also  a  servant  in  a  livery  of 
black  and  silver,  a  pair  of  gray  nuns  in  a  covered 
char,  and  an  empty-saddled  horse  caparisoned 
with  the  accoutrements  of  a  general  officer. 

"  Very  quickly  the  great  lady  entered  the  char 
with  the  sisters,  the  man-servant  sprang  to  his 
seat  beside  the  driver,  the  gentleman  and  the 
164 


OF  MARTIGNY 

officer  mounted  and  rode  behind.  In  this  fashion 
the  company  started  away,  leaving  everything 
behind  them  and  never  returned,  nor  were  ever 
seen  or  heard  of  afterwards. 

"  The  lady  when  she  said  '  adieu'  handed  to  our 
grandmother  a  little  casket  containing  two  rings, 
one  set  with  a  rose-colored  stone,  the  other  with 
a  stone  sky-blue.  When  Maria  and  I  were  born, 
after  so  many  years,  these  rings  remained  still  in 
the  house,  and,  as  they  were  going  to  be  ours, 
dear  Mamma  chose  these  colors  for  her  new-born 
babies  —  pink  for  me,  and  azure  for  Maria.  When 
we  were  christened  one  of  these  rings  was  hung 
about  the  neck  of  each  with  a  thread  of  the  same 
color,  and  was  christened  with  us.  On  the  Sun- 
day of  our  first  Communion  they  were  given  to 
us  for  our  own  and  we  wore  them  on  our  fingers 
for  the  first  time  at  the  supper  that  evening 
and  afterwards  kept  them  preciously  among  our 
treasures. 

"Among  the  pieces  of  furniture  left  by  the 
strange  gentleman  and  lady,  besides  a  willow 
easy-chair  in  which  the  former  slept,  since,  hav- 
ing a  difficulty  of  breathing,  he  never  lay  down, 
and  the  lady's  elegant  French-walnut  bedstead, 
curiously  carved,  there  was  a  large  picture  painted 
by  the  gentleman  at  intervals  during  his  stay  and 
not  wholly  finished. 

165 


THE    TWIN'  SISTERS 

"  It  was  a  night  scene.  Far  away  on  one  side 
were  the  tents  and  banners  of  an  army,  partly 
hidden  behind  the  hills.  On  the  other  side  was  a 
lake  at  the  foot  of  a  precipitous  mountain.  The 
moon,  near  her  setting  behind  the  mountain  and 
just  emerging  from  a  dark  cloud,  threw  across 
the  whole  foreground  the  shadows  of  two  figures 
which  were  themselves  hid  behind  the  brow  of 
the  mountain. 

"One  of  these  was  clad  in  mail  from  head  to 
foot  and  had  on  a  helmet  with  a  plume.  He 
stood  very  straight  with  arms  folded  across  his 
breast  and  scowled  under  his  deep  eyebrows, 
The  other  who  was  speaking  to  him  wore  no  hat 
nor  shoes;  and  was  scantily  clad  in  a  sort  of 
sleeveless  shirt,  with  something  like  a  blanket 
wrapped  carelessly  about  him.  His  hair  and 
beard  were  shaggy  and  long,  and  blown  out 
roughly  in  the  gusty  wind. 

"We  children,  who  from  infancy  well  knew 
that  our  destiny  as  well  as  our  name  was  shadowy 
and  enveloped  in  shadows, —  though  we  never 
could  guess  the  gentleman's  meaning  in  the  pic- 
ture —  used  often  to  stand  gazing  in  silence  before 
it,  folded  in  each  other's  arms,  and  absorbed  in 
our  dreamy  thoughts  till  our  hearts  would  palpi- 
tate audibly,  and  not  seldom  tears  would  roll 
across  our  cheeks,  while  the  real  cause  of  these 
166 


OF  MARTIGNY 

sentiments  was  as  indistinct  and  uncertain  to  us 
as  the  shadows  themselves. 

"  On  the  margin  below  the  picture  the  gen- 
tleman had  also  written  its  name,  or  motto  in 
English,  the  sentiment  of  which — having  been 
explained  to  us  by  a  visiting  padre  —  exercised 
our  hearts  not  less  than  the  picture  itself.  We 
learned  it  by  heart,  and  often  discussed  its  mean- 
ing with  one  another.  It  was:  ''Coming  events 
cast  their  shadows  before.'  Now  we  somehow  con- 
nected, though  very  indistinctly,  that  past  mystery 
with  the  coming  one. 

"  We  dressed  the  bed  with  the  snow-white  linen 
which  our  blessed  Mother  spun  and  wove  during 
her  young  maidenhood  before  she  came  to  visit 
our  home,  in  her  'warm  and  beautiful  France/ 
and  brought  to  Babbo  with  her  dot.  We  covered 
all  with  her  famous  figured  counterpane. 

"  This  counterpane  was  a  curious  thing  which 
we  held  above  all  price.  It  was  covered  with 
scenes  in  the  Siege  of  Firenze 1T  and  the  other  wars 
of  the  Medici ;  views  in  old  Siena  '*  with  her  she- 
wolf-surmounted  pillars  and  fountains,  her  black 
and  white  Duomo,  her  gorgeous  annual  Palio,  the 
Mangia  and  the  Fontebranda.  Babbo  bought  it  for 
dear  Mother  in  the  Fair  at  Aosta  and  brought  it  to 
her  on  their  tenth  wedding  day.  These  things 
were  all  kept  in  the  carved  oaken  chest  in  which 
167 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

they  came  with  the  other  articles  of  her  dot.  This 
chest  served  for  a  seat  in  the  eyry-chamber  near 
our  bed. 

"As  you  may  well  suppose,  the  Salotto  was  a 
dear  room  to  us,  for  all  these  memories  and  treas- 
ures. Here  too  Maria  and  I  were  born.  Here 
dear  Mother  died.  We  had  now  kindled  a  blaze 
of  fir-wood  in  the  little  fireplace.  The  tiny  room 
looked  lovely;  and  the  fragrant  fir- wood  gave  out 
an  agreeable  odor.  All  this  cheered  our  spirits 
a  little;  but,  alas,  it  was  quite  lost  on  the  coming 
occupant  of  the  room. 

"  The  last  rays  of  the  setting  sun  were  glisten- 
ing on  the  peaks  of  the  highest  Aiguilles  and  the 
stars  were  already  beginning  to  twinkle  over  the 
valley,  when  Maria,  after  having  gone  down  to 
the  road  for  the  twentieth  time,  came  running 
back  and  called  to  me,  in  her  soft,  sweet  way: 

— '  They  're  coming  M'amie,  sure,  they  're  com- 
ing now.' 

"  We  both  ran  down  to  the  road.  Dark  objects 
could  be  seen  approaching  over  the  brow  of  the 
hill.  We  did  not  go  toward  them,,  nor  speak  a 
word,  but  our  hearts  beat  audibly,  and  we  held 
each  other  by  the  hand  and  trembled  in  every 
limb. 

"  Presently,  as  the  path  wound  along  the  hill- 
side, we  could  distinguish  Babbo  by  his  hat  and 
1 68 


OF  MARTIGNY 

his  gait,  moving  slowly  along  holding  a  bridle- 
rein.  Two  mules  followed  — one  a  long  distance 
behind  the  other  —  with  some  kind  of  a  cradle  or 
litter  swung  between  them.  A  large  dog  paced 
solemnly  at  the  heels  of  the  last  mule.  But 
neither  Germans  nor  Fraiildn  appeared. 

"  Maria  and  I  stood  in  silence  till  the  cavalcade 
was  within  a  few  paces  of  our  gate.  Then  with- 
out unclasping  our  hands  we  turned  and  led  the 
procession  up  to  our  door. 


CASA  OMBROSINI. 


169 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 


XVI. 

"  We  will  play  no  more,  beautiful  Shadows  ! 

A  fancy  came  solemn  and  sad, 
More  sweet,  with  unspeakable  longings, 
Than  the  best  of  the  pleasures  we  had." 

EDWIN  ARNOLD.     Indian  Song  of  Songs. 

r  three  'lowered  the  litter  gently,  gently 
to  the  ground,  and  lifting  the  body 
upon  a  sheet,  Maria  and  I  grasping  each  a  cor- 
ner, supporting  the  head,  and  Babbo  the  two  at 
the  feet,  we  laid  the  unconscious  form,  wrapped 
like  a  mummy,  upon  the  bed. 

"  We  proceeded  immediately  to  undo  the  wrap- 
pings. Softly  and  silently  we  set  ourselves  at 
work  in  indescribable  anxiety.  Was  he  still 
living?  We  lifted  the  blue  kerchief  which  had 
been  laid  over  the  face.  There  was  the  bandaged 
head  done  up  in  white  kerchiefs.  The  eyes  were 
closed.  Some  drops  of  sweat  stood  on  the  cold 
forehead.  Babbo  bent  his  ear  to  the  breast.  The 
heart  was  beating  very,  very  softly.  He  touched 
the  folded  hands.  The  skin  was  warm.  He  felt 
the  wrist  and  found  a  gentle,  irregular  pulse. 
170 


OF  MARTIGNY 

We  administered  brandy  immediately  and  saw 
the  chest  rise  and  fall  in  respiration. 

"  We  were  all  thoroughly  exhausted,  physically 
and  mentally,  yet  thankful  to  be  so  far  relieved 
from  the  strain  of  a  terrible  fear.  But  for  me 
there  was  another  shock  awaiting  far  more  shat- 
tering than  anything  I  had  met  before.  In  the 
next  few  moments  that  prophetic  shadow,  which 
had  followed  me  from  infancy,  must  rise  before 
me  again,  like  a  ghost  from  the  Inferno.  Alas ! 
why  must  I,  by  this  unwilling  and  unavailing 
presentiment,  twice  drink  each  bitter  cup  of  my 
destiny ! 

"After  we  had  arranged  the  patient  in  the 
bed  as  best  we  could,  I  went  to  stand  for  a 
moment  in  front  of  the  fire.  I  laid  my  hand 
caressingly  on  the  head  of  the  great  dog  who 
had  come  into  the  room  unbidden  and  unre- 
garded, and  seated  himself  at  the  further  end  of 
the  hearth.  He  neither  resented  nor  welcomed 
my  caresses,  turning  his  head  every  few  seconds 
to  and  fro,  seeming  to  be  dividing  a  thoughtful 
regard  between  the  merrily  dancing  blaze  and 
the  sad  bed  whereon  his  master  was  stretched. 

"  Presently  I  fancied  that  the  dog  looked  more 
frequently  and  wistfully  toward  the  bed.  My 
back  was  turned  in  that  direction,  but  accident- 
ally lifting  my  eyes  toward  the  mirror,  I  caught 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

a  sight  which  shot  through  my  breast  like  a 
stream  of  fire. 

"  Maria  was  sitting  at  the  bedside  half-turned 
toward  the  fire.  The  jolly  blaze,  as  if  in  grim 
mockery,  was  casting  her  shadow  with  that  of  the 
young  man  upon  the  opposite  wall  together.  The 
mirror  reflected  the  picture  with  an  exaggerated 
glamour  upon  my  horror-stricken  sight.  I  shud- 
der still  at  every  recollection  of  her  trembling 
profile  resting  upon  the  shivering  shadow  of  his 
bandaged  head.  The  fire  in  my  bosom  suddenly 
changed  to  a  mountain  of  ice.  A  strange  chill 
crept  around  my  heart  of  hearts.  I  went  imme- 
diately out  of  the  room  and  endeavored  — 

Here  the  voice  of  my  companion  faltered  and 
the  shoes  dropped  at  her  feet.  I  saw  that  her 
face  was  deathly  pale,  and  that  she  was  be- 
ginning to  fall.  I  seized  and  guided,  or  rather 
carried  her  to  the  roadside  and  supported  her 
drooping  head  upon  the  grassy  bank.  In  an- 
other instant  I  had  filled  my  traveler's  cup 
from  the  little  stream  at  our  side,  and  applied 
the  icy  water  to  her  temples.  The  faintness 
was  short.  Her  eyes  soon  opened ;  and  raising 
herself  into  a  more  convenient  posture,  she  said  : 

"  Alas !  I  ought  not  to  have  spoken  of  this. 
Sometimes  the  thought  of  it  makes  me  faint. 
But  you  will  easily  believe  now  —  however  it 


OF  MARTIGNY 

came  about  —  that  we  are  rightly  named  Ombro- 
sini.  It  is  not  true,  however,  that  all  our  family 
have  had  as  much  to  do  with  shadows  as  I ;  nor 
that  their  business  with  them  has  always  been  as 
uncanny  as  mine. 

"  But  are  you  not  willing  to  believe,  Signer,  that 
our  holy  Mother,  the  Church,  cares  for  us,  her 
children,  in  this  world  as  well  as  in  the  next? 
Are  you  not  willing  to  believe  that  she  works  be- 
fore us  and  upon  us  her  perpetual  miracles,  and 
teaches  us  to  see  through  the  thin  veil  and  recog- 
nize much  that  is  going  on  in  the  world  of  spirits  ? 
But  ah,  Signor,  do  you  Protestants,  so  rich  and  so 
learned,  really  believe  in  any  supernatural  world 
at  all?  For  my  part,  I  would  die  sooner  than 
come  to  that  —  yes,  sooner  than  flee  from  her  pro- 
tecting shadow.  But  stop.  I  am  not  trying  to 
convert  you  to  religion,  but  to  give  you  a  story. 

"  When  I  fled,  unable  to  bear  it,  from  the  scene 
I  have  described,  I  continued  saying  to  myself, 
notwithstanding,  '  What  can  there  be  fearful 
in  the  shadow  of  a  shadow?'  But  my  only  re- 
lief came  in  occupation  and  in  other  cares ;  and, 
happily,  these  were  plain  and  pressing. 

"  On  entering  the  common  room,  my  first  duty 
stared  in  my  face.  That  table  set  out  with  so 
much  anxiety  and  anticipation  in  the  morning 
was  now  to  be  put  away  untouched.  It  was  a 

173 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

gloomy  task  —  that  replacing  by  a  pine  torch- 
light those  plates  and  bright  knives  —  that  re- 
folding of  the  white  table-cloth  and  returning  it 
to  the  dowry-chest  in  the  loft  —  that  removing  of 
the  uncut  cheese  and  bread  and  apples  and  nuts, 
and  storing  them  back  in  their  places.  In  some 
circumstances,  this  would  have  been  a  pleasure, 
but  doing  it  now,  not  as  in  the  morning,  thinking 
pleasant  thoughts,  and  chatting  gaily  with  Maria, 
but  in  silence  and  alone,  and  with  that  hideous 
shadow-picture,  which  I  could  not  banish,  hang- 
ing continually  before  my  fancy  —  and  —  and 
Maria,  dear  Maria  sitting  at  the  bedside  ! 

"When  all  was  cleared  away,  I  did  not  re- 
turn to  the  sick  room,  but  built  a  new  fire  and 
was  busied  for  an  hour  or  more  in  preparing 
the  family  supper.  Maria  refused  to  leave  the 
young"  man  alone, —  though  there  was  then  really 
nothing  to  be  done  for  him  —  or  to  allow  me  to 
take  her  place  at  the  bedside. 

"So  Babbo  and  I  sat  down  without  her  at  the 
table;  and  Babbo  then  said  that  the  cases  of  wine 
appeared  to  be  unhurt,  and  he  should  carry  them 
to  Martigny  in  the  morning;  and  he  should,  he 
believed,  be  able  to  bring  back  a  surgeon,  since 
there  would  surely  be  found  more  than  one 
among  the  pleasure-and-health-seeking  travelers 
who  passed  through  there  every  day;  and  if  not, 


OF  MARTIGNY 

on  his  return  he  would  go  over  to  Aosta  and  get 
one  of  the  city  surgeons  from  there. 

— '  Ma  Babbo  caro '  [but  Papa  dear],  I  said,  '  how 
can  we  bear  the  cost  of  that  ?  ' 

— '  In  every  way,'  he  replied,  '  it  must  be  done. 
But  five  lire,  I  think,  will  be  ample  from  Martigny 
and  ten  from  Aosta  j  and  the  wine  (not  to  speak 
of  my  service  in  forwarding  and  delivering),  will 
be  worth  fifty.' 

"  He  looked  thoughtful  a  moment,  then  he 
smote  the  table  with  his  fist  and  exclaimed,  as 
he  rose  : 

— '  There,  there  !  by  San  Martina  ! —  how  strange 
I  should  have  forgotten  it  —  the  young  man  told 
me,  when  we  met  at  the  Hospice,  that  he  had  an 
appointment  to  meet  there  to-day,  yes,  this  very 
day,  an  Italian  surgeon,  Dr.  Carlo  Ferrenti,  a  dis- 
tinguished alunno  of  the  University  of  Siena,  his 
own  maternal  uncle,  who  was  at  present  attached 
to  the  household  of  the  Conte  Crocini  di  Monte- 
pulciano  who  had  a  palace  in  Siena,  where  he 
had  by  accident  become  acquainted  with  the 
young  student,  admired  his  talents,  fallen  in  love 
with  the  qualities  of  his  heart,  and  remained  his 
friend  and  patron. 

'This  nobleman  had  been  soaking  for  some 
months  at  the  Leukerbad,  and  was  now  on  his  way 
to  the  hotter  and  stronger  waters  of  Aix-la- 

175 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

Chapelle.  The  party  would  be  stopping  for  a 
week  at  the  Hdtel  de  la  Poste,  because  suitable 
accommodations  could  not  be  engaged  with  so 
short  notice  at  la  Tour,  The  wine  was  for  the 
use  of  this  nobleman  by  special  prescription.' 

"A  very  early  breakfast  was  arranged  and 
Babbo  assumed  the  charge  of  the  invalid  for  the 
night.  After  esconcing  Babbo  in  the  great  willow- 
sleeper  at  the  bedside,  Maria  and  I  made  our- 
selves a  bed  in  our  own  loft-chamber,  and  soon 
locked  in  each  other's  arms,  both,  as  each  believed 
of  the  other,  fell  asleep.  But  for  me  it  was  only 
snatches  of  unconsciousness  and  the  night  was 
filled  with  waking  dreams,  built  of  possibilities 
and  impossibilities,  pleasing  and  painful,  which 
sometimes  brought  an  involuntary  smile  to  my 
lips,  sometimes  sent  a  cold  shiver  streaming  over 
my  whole  body. 

"  Not  long  after  midnight  I  awoke  from  a 
troubled  slumber.  The  Moon,  in  her  last  quarter, 
hanging  over  Monte  Velano,  was  pouring  a  flood 
of  silver  light  through  the  room.  I  looked  for 
Maria.  She  was  gone.  I  sprang  from  the  bed. 
Turning  in  the  direction  of  the  casement,  I  saw 
her,  partly  enveloped  by  a  bed  coverlet,  reclin- 
ing in  an  armchair  near  the  dower-chest  on 
which  her  feet  were  laid.  Her  head  was  leaned 
back  upon  a  pillow,  and  she  was  soundly  sleeping. 
176 


OF  AIARTIGNY 

"It  was  a  lovely  sight.  Her  unbound  hair 
streamed  over  the  snowy  pillow.  Her  deeply 
exposed  bosom  rose  and  fell  with  her  slow  and 
silent  breathing.  Involuntarily  I  stooped  and 
softly,  softly  kissed  her  smooth,  fair  brow.  Lift- 
ing my  eyes,  the  next  instant,  I  saw  her  beautiful 
profile  clearly  drawn  on  the  opposite  wall.  But, 
under  the  pale,  quivering  sheen  of  the  moonlight, 
growing  every  moment  more  faint  and  dim,  as 
the  sinking  luminary  approached  nearer  and 
nearer  the  horizon,  and  in  the  deep  stillness, 
broken  only  by  the  soft  basso  of  the  mountain 
cascades,  the  sight  fell  on  my  excited  fancy  as 
another  prophetic  shadow  of  helplessness,  disap- 
pointment, despair. 

"  Fearing  on  many  accounts  to  leave  her  sleep- 
ing in  that  exposed  and  insecure  position  — 
which  I  had  reason  to  believe,  from  her  previous 
habits,  she  had  taken  in  a  somnambulistic  state, — 
I  led  her  gently  back  to  the  bed  without  awaking 
her;  and  soon  myself  fell  asleep  again. 

"After  another  uncertain  period  of  disturbed 
and  unrestful  slumber,  I  again  awoke.  Morn- 
ing twilight  had  not  yet  begun.  The  Moon 
had  set.  The  stars  were  shining  in  an  un- 
clouded sky.  Maria  was  sleeping.  I  felt  im- 
pelled to  rise,  and  slipped  softly  from  her  side. 

"As  I  passed  our  window,  which  looked  toward 

177 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

the  west,  I  saw  the  Swan  sailing  down  the  Milky 
Way.  Just  below  her  left  wing,  ready  to  drop 
behind  the  Col  de  Ferret,  glorious  Lyra  was  shin- 
ing so  brightly  across  that  snowy  mountain  top, 
as  to  throw  a  shadow  —  very  faint,  to  be  sure,  yet 
a  perceptible  shadow  of  my  loosely  robed  figure 
over  my  sleeping  sister.  The  radiance  of  the 
constellations  had  brightened  her  countenance, 
and  just  the  suggestion  of  a  smile  lay  on  her  lips, 
as  if  she  were  in  some  pleasing  dream,  or,  I 
thought,  as  if  her  spirit,  while  the  body  slept, 
were  listening  to  the  music  of  that  celestial  harp. 
But  when  the  shadow  of  my  form  crossed  her 
face,  the  smile  disappeared;  her  brow  was  con- 
tracted, and  it  seemed  to  me  that  a  spasm  of 
anguish  shot  across  her  troubled  countenance.  I 
said  to  my  trembling  heart,  '  Is  this  shadowy  pro- 
phecy tripled  upon  her  and  upon  me  ?  What  can 
it  forbode  ?  Is  it  that  my  destiny  is  fated  to 
conflict  with  hers?  Are  the  stars  in  the  sky 
interested  in  us  ?  —  and  informed,  perhaps,  of 
our  future  ?  —  or  is  it  true,  as  the  story  said,  that 
there  live  our  guardian  angels  ? '  " 


178 


OF  MAR  TIG  NY 


XVII. 

"  Love  is  a  pearl  of  purest  hue, 

But  stormy  waves  are  round  it, 
And  dearly  may  a  woman  rue 

The  hour  when  first  she  found  it." 

Miss  LANDON. 

«  A  S  the  dawn  was  coming  on,  I  crept  silently 
/Y  down  into  the  Salotto.  The  patient  had 
so  far  improved  during  the  night  as  to  swallow 
readily,  and  Babbo  was  giving  him,  at  frequent 
and  regular  intervals,  milk  and  wine.  There 
was  a  twitching  about  the  eyes,  though  the  lids 
were  closed,  a  clenching  and  unclenching  of  the 
fingers,  an  uneasy  working  of  the  toes,  and  a 
low  moaning  which  returned  from  time  to  time. 
"  Babbo  now  gave  over  the  care  of  him  to  me  ; 
and  proceeded  to  carry  out  his  plan  about  the 
wine  and  the  surgeon — expecting  to  have  re- 
turned before  mid-afternoon.  Maria  was  to  be 
out  with  the  flocks  —  at  that  season,  however,  only 
during  the  few  warmer  hours  of  the  day.  Velloso 
[old  shaggy],  as  from  his  shaggy  coat,  we  then 
called  the  dog,  not  knowing  his  real  name,  would 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

not  go  with  her  to  the  sheep,  nor,  in  fact,  could 
be  persuaded  for  a  moment  to  lose  sight  of  the 
bed.  If  we  attempted,  however  gently,  to  get 
him  out  of  the  room,  he  would  growl  horribly 
and  gnash  his  teeth.  When  the  moaning  sea- 
sons came  at  intervals  on  the  injured  man,  he 
would  go  and  stand  at  the  bedside  looking  now 
at  his  master,  now  up  into  the  face  of  the  watcher, 
whining  piteously. 

'•'•Maria,  having  dispatched  the  indispensable 
duties  of  the  household,  departed  with  her  charge 
up  the  mountain-side.  Having  been  consoled  by 
a  good  breakfast,  Velloso  stretched  his  great, 
shaggy  body  at  full  length  on  its  side  with  ex- 
tended legs  before  the  smouldering  fire.  His 
suspicions  now  seemed  to  be  quieted,  his  ner- 
vousness gone  ;  and  as  I  seated  myself  at  the 
bedside,  he  seemed,  as  plainly  as  canine  signs 
could  express  it,  to  entrust  his  master,  without 
further  scruple,  to  my  care. 

"  After  once  and  again  repeating  his  survey  of 
the  surroundings,  and  appearing  to  find  every- 
thing satisfactory,  he  laid  his  great  head  down  on 
one  of  its  ears,  as  for  a  secure  and  comfortable 
sleep,  into  which  he  presently  fell. 

"  The  door  remained  open  into  the  larger  com- 
mon-room. All  was  still,  except  the  ticking  of 
the  cuckoo-clock  or  its  chirping  out  the  hours, 
i  So 


OF  MARTIGNY 

the  loud  breathing  and  occasional  whine  of  the 
sleeping  dog,  and  the  heavy  respirations  and  now 
and  then  the  moans  of  the  unconscious  invalid. 

"As  the  day  wore  on,  the  hours  seemed  to 
me  to  grow  ever  longer  and  longer.  I  became 
intensely  lonely  and  at  last  alarmed  —  my  com- 
panions an  unknown,  perhaps  a  dying  man,  and 
an  unknown  dog  —  the  stillness,  on  which  ever 
and  anon  rose  the  cawing  of  crows  in  the 
neighboring  woods,  the  roaring  of  the  wind 
through  the  treetops,  the  rattling  of  the  au- 
tumnal gusts  against  the  window-panes,  and 
the  moans  at  the  crevices  of  the  casements. 

"  My  blood  tingled  and  my  heart  palpitated 
with  an  undefined  apprehension  as  I  thought 
it  must  be  another  hour,  perhaps  more,  before 
Babbo  could  arrive  with  the  surgeon ;  and  Maria 
certainly  would  not  come  till  nearly  nightfall. 
Who  could  tell  what  might  any  moment  happen  ? 

"  It  had  been  more  than  willingly  that  I  as- 
sumed the  duties  of  day-nurse.  Nor  was  I,  at 
first,  alarmed  or  displeased  at  the  thought  of 
being  left  alone  in  the  house  with  that  respon. 
sible  charge.  I  occupied  the  first  hours  agreea- 
bly enough,  sitting  with  my  sewing  at  the  win- 
dow, fulfilling  from  time  to  time  the  order  about 
nourishment,  now  and  again  moving  noiselessly 
about  the  room,  replacing  disorders,  removing 
181 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

litter  and  dust,  straightening  the  ever-gathering 
folds  of  the  coverlet,  smoothing  out  the  wrinkles 
from  the  snowy  linen,  and  returning  to  sew  a 
little,  but  much  more  to  gaze  abstractedly  up 
into  the  autumnal  sky,  where  bright  clouds 
were  sailing  swiftly  along  over  the  tops  of  the 
singing  fir  trees. 

"  Later  in  the  day  a  strange  thing  happened  to 
me,  which,  if  it  had  not  caused,  greatly  aggra- 
vated, my  nervous  distress  and  alarm.  Several 
times,  on  returning  to  full  self-consciousness 
from  one  of  those  musing  abstractions,  I  had, 
with  surprise,  found  myself  standing  at  the  bed- 
side with  a  sort  of  pleased  anxiety,  gazing  on  the 
unconscious  sufferer.  I  was  alarmed  and  uneasy 
at  it  because  I  felt  in  my  heart  that,  beyond  my 
pity,  which  was  really  unselfish  and  keen,  there 
was  an  attraction  for  me  there  which  I  could  not 
extinguish,  though  I  trembled  while  I  was  held 
fast  in  admiration  of  the  noble  form,  the  broad 
forehead,  the  gentle  and  lovely  mouth  —  in  short, 
a  tout  ensemble  of  manliness  to  ravish  any  maiden's 
heart. 

"Oh,  if  I  had  had  a  mother  then! — how  I 
would  have  pillowed  my  head  on  her  bosom 
and  wept  in  silent  relief  !  Nay,  lone  orphan  as 
I  was,  how  gladly  would  I  have  fled  to  our  loft- 
chamber  and  buried  my  face  in  the  pillows  !  But 
182 


OF  MARTIGNY 

I  was  pinioned  and  alone.  I  must  stay.  I  dared 
not  leave  the  room.  At  all  hazards,  I  must  regu- 
larly approach  and  administer  the  orders.  At  the 
price  of  his  life,  I  must  again  and  again  direct 
my  eyes  where  I  should  receive  charge  after 
charge  of  that  mysterious  magnetism  which 
made  me  quiver  in  every  fibre." 


ALPINE   SOLITUDE. 


183 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 


XVIII. 

"  Imogen, 
The  dream's  here  still ;  even  when  I  awake,  it  is 

Without  me  as  within  me  ; ' 

SHAK.  CYMB.  ACT  iv,  sc.  2. 

AFTER  a  long  silence,  my  companion  resumed: 
"  When  I  came  to  myself,  I  was  on  a  cot  in 
our  loft  chamber  and  partially  bewildered.  The 
surroundings  were  in  general  familiar  enough, 
but  the  cot  on  which  I  lay,  with  head-and-foot- 
boards  of  polished  walnut,  certainly  was  not. 
There  was  also  a  stand  of  the  same  material, 
a  rocker  and  a  footstool  which  I  had  never  seen 
before.  These,  as  I  afterwards  learned,  had  been 
sent  by  the  surgeon  from  Martigny. 

"Although  free  from  pain,  my  strength  was 
gone.  It  was  only  with  the  utmost  exertion  of 
will  that  I  could  lift  my  hand  to  my  head.  I 
wondered  what  had  happened  to  me.  Gradually 
I  gathered  some  scattered  memories,  but  these 
were  so  faint  and  uncertain  that  I  doubted 
whether  they  were  facts  or  impressions  of  a 
dream.  Excepting  these,  the  intervening  space 

184 


OF  MARTIGNY 

was  a  void;  nor,  if  these  few  memories  had  a 
reality  behind  them,  could  I  tell  whether  they 
belonged  to  a  day  or  a  month  or  a  year  ago.  But 
presently  exhausted  by  these  efforts,  I  fell  again 
into  slumber. 

"When  I  again  awoke,  it  was  high-day.  An 
unclouded  sun  was  shining  brightly  over  a  daz- 
zling world.  The  mountainside  opposite  the 
window  glittered  back  from  the  tiny  glacier- 
threads  and  the  tinier  rivulets.  The  casement 
was  open.  The  soft,  sweet  breeze  of  a  fine 
autumnal  noon  lisped  in  the  leaves  and  blew 
gently  over  my  brow.  The  fragrant  air  was 
filled  with  the  droning  of  a  few  'industrious  bees 
who  had  been  drawn  from  their  snug  quarters  by 
the  genial  warmth  of  the  noonday  hour,  and 
were  now  humming  around  some  clusters  of  very 
sweet  but  late  ripening  grapes  that  still  hung  on 
a  vine  which  sister  and  I  had  trained  over  our 
window  with  the  view  mainly  of  getting  a  grate- 
ful protection,  especially  during  the  midsummer 
heats,  against  the  afternoon  sun.  The  vine  was 
almost  leafless  now,  but  the  shriveled  clusters 
perfumed  our  chamber,  and  afforded  a  little 
occupation  to  the  honey-seekers  who  in  these  last 
days  of  the  season  hardly  ventured  into  the 
vicinity  of  the  glaciers,  and  found  but  scanty 
attractions  in  the  valley. 

185 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

"I  found  myself  alone.  Near  my  head  on 
that  polished  walnut  stand  stood  several  phials, 
and  beside  them  lay  two  or  three  ominous  look- 
ing little  folded  papers.  I  knew  then  that  a 
physician  had  been  in  attendance  and  wondered 
more  than  ever  why  and  how  long  I  had  lain 
there. 

"I  endeavored  to  rise  but  was  unable.  The 
movement  of  the  coverlet  dislodged  a  spoon 
from  the  stand  which  fell  on  the  floor  with 
a  sharp  ring.  Immediately  Maria  appeared  at 
the  door.  Her  soft  eyes  glistened  and  her 
face  was  wreathed  in  smiles  as  she  instantly 
addressed  me  in  French. 

"The  language  itself  had  a  meaning  —  a  pecul- 
iar meaning  for  us,  I  mean — which  I  must  ex- 
plain to  you.  Like  all  the  people  here,  living 
in  this  corner  between  the  three  nations,  where 
there  is  no  distinct  national  language,  of  course 
we  knew  and  spoke,  with  exactly  the  same  com- 
mand and  facility,  the  three  languages  of  the 
nations  around  us — yet  this,  not  quite  indiscrim- 
inately. We  always  made  a  kind  of  instinctive 
and  almost  unconscious  choice  in  using  them. 
I  mean  that  under  certain  conditions,  one  of 
these  languages,  under  certain  others,  another, 
.and  again'  under  others  still,  the  third  language 
would  always  burst  from  our  lips,  without  any 

1 86 


OF  MARTIGNY 

especial  intention  or  thought  about  it.  But  in 
this  involuntary  and  unconscious  determination, 
there  was  a  curious  unthought-of  motive  guid- 
ign  our  tongues. 

"The  always  acknowledged  fact  was  that  we 
venerated  and  loved,  best  of  all,  the  language  of 
Italia,  Italia  carissima  e  sempre  adorata  [Italy,  dearest 
and  ever  adored  Italy],  the  speech  of  our  own 
nation,  our  home,  our  Patria  —  the  mellifluous 
speech  that  bore  to  the  breezes,  through  all  the 
ages,  the  huzzas  and  the  groans  of  her  sons 
and  daughters  in  the  days  of  their  glory  and  of 
their  shame  —  the  speech  through  whose  rippling 
periods  come  down  the  thrilling  pages  of  her 
tumultuous,  heart-rending,  unparalleled  history  — 
the  speech  whose  sonorous  and  beautiful  syllables 
name  out  to  the  world  her  own  dear  name,  her 
rivers  and  lakes,  her  mountains  and  valleys,  her 
cities  and  palaces,  her  villas  and  vineyards  and 
unmatchable  wines — the  speech  that  was  prattled 
in  the  mirth  of  their  infancy,  was  filled  with  the 
glorious  thoughts  and  visions  of  their  manhood, 
and  was  whispered  in  the  sighs  and  agonies  of 
their  departure  by  heavenly  Dante  and  elegant 
Bocaccio,  by  Petrarca  and  Ariosto  and  Tasso,  by 
Copernico  and  Galileo  and  Colombo  and  Ricardo,  by 
Raffaele  and  Michelangelo  and  Guido,  by  Manzoni 

and  Leopardi  and  Foscolo  and  Pellico  " 

187 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

As  the  girl  uttered  these  passionate  words 
and  whirled  off  a  catalogue  of  which  these 
above  given  are  but  the  greater  and  represent- 
ative names,  she  straightened  up  with  a  sort 
of  mournful  pride,  her  former  almost  child- 
like voice  assumed  a  declamatory  tone,  and  her 
countenance  beamed  with  a  lofty  intelligence  at 
which  I  was  at  once  astonished  and  fascinated. 

When  this  rhetorical  flourish  was  over,  and  her 
countenance  had  assumed  its  normal  expression, 
she  added  in  her  ordinary  tones  and  with  the  first 
smile  I  had  seen  on  her  face  : 

"  Of  course,  the  very  sounds  were  music  to  our 
ears  ;  and  Babbo  never  spoke  in  any  other  lan- 
guage to  us,  nor  we  to  him. 

"  But  Mother,  as  I  have  said,  was  from  France, 
and  learned  our  Italian  after  she  came  to  our 
home.  The  language  of  her  own  country  always 
lay  deepest  in  her  heart.  To  her  it  was  the  lan- 
guage of  love,  of  tenderness,  of  every  private, 
domestic,  family  sentiment.  Naturally,  or  rather 
necessarily,  it  was  the  lullabies  of  that  language, 
sung  by  her  over  our  cradle,  under  which  we 
sank  to  our  baby  slumbers ;  and  our  first  infant 
prattle  and  our  childish  epithets  of  tenderness 
and  affection,  were  taught  us  by  her  in  her  own 
tongue. 

"  Of  course,  the  effect  of  this  infantile  training 
188 


OF  MARTIGNY 

was  prodigious  —  one  might  say  extinguishing 
—  upon  every  other  language  in  this  field.  Of 
course,  no  other  words  ever  could  sound  to  our 
ears  so  naturally  tender,  so  full  of  meaning,  so 
powerfully  picturing  every  emotion  and  voicing 
every  passion.  With  Mother  we  children  never 
used  any  other ;  and  generally  in  private,  always 
in  our  tenderest  moments,  we  used  our  Mother's 
language  with  each  other.  Its  very  accent  to  our 
ears  meant  love  and  passion. 

"  Of  the  German,  I  need  only  say  that  we  spoke 
it  only  of  necessity  and  with  strangers  of  that 
uncouth  nation. 

"  You  will  understand  now  how  much  meaning 
there  was  in  it,  and  how  sweet  it  was  to  hear, 
when  Maria,  coming  now  to  the  bedside,  and  see- 
ing my  eyes  open,  exclaimed,  in  great  excitement, 
yet  hardly  above  a  whisper  : 

— '  J/  'amt'e,  tn'amie,  ma  chere  enfant,  est-ce-quil  y  a 
long  temps  que  tu  f  es  dveille'e  ? '  [dear  child,  have  you 
been  long  awake  ?] 

— '  No,  M'amie'  I  replied,  '  I  have  but  this  min- 
ute awoke.  But  am  I  sick?  Have  I  lain  here 
long  ?  Who  brought  these  phials  and  papers  here 
and  all  these  other  things  ?  What  does  it  mean, 
Maria  dear  ?  Tell  me  —  tell  me  everything.' 

— 'Yes,  dear,  don't  you  remember,'  she  said, 
'when  they  brought  you  up  here?' 
189 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

— '  No,  certainly  I  don't  —  not  a  thing  about  it. 
When  was  it  ?  —  why  was  it  ?  —  what  was  it  ? ' 

— '  You  don't  remember  the  Medico  ? ' 

— '  No,  indeed,  nothing  of  the  kind  at  all.' 

— '  That  is  very  queer.  You  were  talking  to 
him  all  the  time  as  fast  as  you  could  jabber.' 

— '  What  did  I  say  ? '  (for  I  was  frightened  at 
that). 

"  Maria  made  no  other  reply,  but  laid  her  hand 
softly  on  my  forehead  and  smiled  sweetly  down 
on  me,  saying  : 

— '  It's  so  good  to  look  into  your  dear  eyes 
again,  Marta! 

"  Though  I  was  n't  distinctly  conscious  of  any 
chapter  of  secrets  in  my  thoughts  which  I  need 
be  terrified  at  having  unconsciously  divulged, 
still  there  was  a  dark  cloud  hanging  over  my 
mind  which  seemed  to  me  to  envelop  some  piece 
of  history  —  and,  I  felt,  an  uncanny  history,  too 
—  but  the  particulars  of  which  I  could  not  at 
all  recollect,  and  therefore  my  heart  did  trem- 
ble with  timidity  at  what  of  proper  or  im- 
proper privacy  that  field  of  darkness  without 
memories  might  have  contained  and  exhibited. 
So  I  persisted : 

— '  What  did  I  say  ? ' 

— '  Nothing  worth  thinking  of  now,'  she  said. 

— '  But  I  must  know  now,  now,'  I  insisted. 
190 


OF  MARTIGNY 

— 'Well,  dear,  I  can't  remember  it  all,  there 
was  so  much,  I  only  remember  that  you  seemed 
in  great  excitement  and  the  words  / '  enfant  cher ' 
[the  dear  fellow]  came  over  a  good  many  times. 
But  there  was  nothing  for  a  good  gjrl  to  blush  at, 
dear.  So  be  quiet,  Martettina  [dear  little  Martha], 
and  tell  me  if  you  can  take  some  brodo  [broth] 
now.' 

— '  What  am  I  to  take  brodo  for  ?  Am  I  sick  ? 
I  feel  as  well  as  ever,  only  so  weak.' 

— 'It's  two  days  ago  this  afternoon  that  the 
Medico  came  and  gave  you  one  of  those  pow- 
ders,' she  pointed  to  the  little  papers  that  lay 
on  the  stand,  'and  we've  given  them  as  he 
directed,  and  kept  you  asleep  till  now.' 

— '  But  what's  the  matter  with  me  ? ' 

— '  The  Medico  didn't  say  ;  but  he  will  come 
every  day  till  you  are  better.  He  came  yester- 
day, felt  your  pulse,  put  his  glass  under  your 
tongue,  listened  at  your  chest,  asked  me  thir- 
teen of  the  queerest  questions,  ordered  one  more 
powder,  and  said  you  should  wake  up  to-day.  He 
will  surely  be  here  this  afternoon.  Now  I  must 
bring  the  brodo.  He  told  me  to  feed  you  with  it 
as  soon  as  you  awoke.  I  made  it  this  morning. 
It  needs  a  minute  over  the  fire.' 

"  With  this  she  slipped  quickly  away  to  bring  the 
broth.     Being  again  alone,  my  thoughts  wandered 
191 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

back  to  the  events  of  my  last  remembrance,  and 
became  occupied  with  a  hundred  conjectures, 
wishes,  fears.  Then,  I  wondered  Maria  had  n't 
alluded  to  the  young  man.  One  wouldn't  have 
known,  from  her  words  or  actions,  she  had  ever 
heard  of  him.  '  What  had  become  of  him  ?  Was  he 
already  dead  and  gone  ?  Or  was  he  so  much  bet- 
ter as  to  be  removed  to  the  hotel  in  Martigny  with 
his  uncle  ?  Should  I  never  see  him  again  ?  My 
heart  was  breaking  to  hear  about  him.  But  I 
could  n't  ask  Maria.  Why  could  n't  I  ask  her  ? 
-Oh,  oh!' 

"At  this  point  in  my  uneasy  meditations,  Maria 
came  sailing  in  with  the  brodo.  It  was  in  one  of 
dear  sainted  Mother's  blue  and  white  china  tea 
cups  which  she  brought  in  her  dot  from  Nismes. 
Kneeling  down  at  the  side  of  my  pillow  Maria 
fed  me  very  slowly  with  a  bright  silver  spoon 
which  the  unknown  lady  had  left,  and  it  had  the 
arms  of  France  upon  it.  Between  every  spoonful 
sister  leaned  forward  and  gave  me  a  kiss. 

"  When  my  meal  was  over,  she  remained  for  a 
time,  moving  softly  about  the  chamber  as  blithe 
as  a  butterfly,  as  lovely  as  an  angel.  She  spoke 
but  little  and  her  tread  was  as  light  as  the  step  of 
a  kitten.  I  thought  I  had  never  seen  her  soft 
eyes  so  bright;  and  her  face  seemed  to  be  shining 
in  a  halo  of  sweetness,  like  Venus  at  her  full. 
192 


OF  MARTIGNY 

This  new  radiance,  thought  I,  whence  comes  it  ? 
It  must  emanate  from  some  secret  joy. 

"When  every  little  service  of  renovation  and 
preparation  throughout  the  room  had  been  thus 
noiselessly  accomplished,  she  came  and  knelt 
again  at  my  pillow  showering  upon  my  hot  cheeks 
gentlest  kisses.  That  act  of  pity  was  too  much. 
I  could  endure  my  silent  thoughts  no  longer. 
My  pent  feelings  burst  forth  like  a  new  spring  on 
an  August  noon  from  the  foot  of  a  glacier;  and 
the  tears  streamed  across  my  cheeks  upon  the 
pillow,  like  the  torrents  of  the  Val  d'  Entremont, 
with  irresistible  sobs. 

"  Distressed  at  this  new  symptom  of  my  malady 
and  ignorant  of  its  real  cause,  my  sister  reached 
and  took  from  the  stand  one  of  the  strange  phials 
and,  gently  wiping  the  tears  from  my  cheeks, 
cautiously  brought  the  loosened  stopper  near  my 
nostrils.  The  sensation  was  new  to  me,  delight- 
ful and  refreshing.  I  was  about  to  excuse  my 
sobbing,  and  with  some  difficulty  between  the 
spasms,  begun: 

— '  I  did  n't  —  mean  —  to  cry,  but ' — 

— 'Yes,  yes,  M'amie,'  she  interrupted,  'I  know 
it  —  how  very  weak  your  nerves  are,  but ' — 

— 'No,  no  —  not  that  —  but' —  I  began  again 
when  she  gently  pressed  over  my  mouth  the 
fazzoletto  [handkerchief]  with  which  she  was  still 

193 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

absorbing  the  rivers  that  continued  to  overflow 
my  cheeks,  saying,  hurriedly, 

— '  Sta  bene,  sta  bene,  benissimo,  M'amie  [It 's  all 
right,  it  's  all  right,  dearest].  Don't  talk  now. 
Sobbing  so  will  harm  you.  We  must  keep  you 
quiet.  The  Medico  insisted  on  this.  I  won't  tidy 
up  again  till  you  are  stronger.  I  see,  I  see  that 
your  poor  nerves  could  n't  bear  my  bustling 
round  so.' 

"  Then  turning  her  face  up  toward  the  window, 
she  added,  softly: 

— 'Oh  look  at  the  clouds,  M'amie  —  how  beauti- 
ful and  peaceful  they  are  now  !  It  will  soothe 
you.' 

"  I  lifted  my  eyes  and  looked  through  the 
open  casement  into  the  soft,  autumnal  sky. 
Masses  of  bright  white  clouds  of  every  con- 
ceivable form  were  sailing  slowly  down  the 
valley.  At  this  instant,  I  thought  I  heard  a 
sound  as  of  a  slight  movement  below.  Maria 
rose  from  her  knees  and  slipped  down  the 
stairs,  saying  in  a  whisper  as  she  went: 

— '  Dans  un  moment,  M'amie,  je  serai  de  man  retour.' 
[I'll  be  back  in  a  moment,  dear.] 

"  I  continued  gazing  quietly  and  pleasantly  into 
those  clouds.  Wonderful  figures  presented  them- 
selves to  my  fancy.  I  saw  there  seas  and  islands, 
mountains  and  forests,  fruitful  fields  and  desert 
194 


OF  MARTI GNY 

wastes,  horrid  battle-grounds  and  carnage  and 
devastation,  peaceful  landscapes  filled  with  the 
busy  activities  of  animal  and  of  human  life,  the 
bird  twittering  to  his  mate  on  a  leafy  bough, 
lovers  in  shaded  grottoes  embracing,  mourners  in 
churchyards  beneath  the  sad  cypress  burying 
their  dead  —  all  noiseless  as  the  step  of  Silence, 
moving  steadily  across  the  scene,  in  the  van  of 
other  yet  similar  multitudes  pushing  them  for- 
ward into  the  abyss  of  immensity.  My  brain 
finally  swam,  and  before  the  promise  of  Maria 
was  fulfilled  I  was  again  asleep." 


ROAD    TOWARD   THE   HOSPICE. 


195 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 


XIX. 

Romeo.         Peace,  peace,  Mercutio,  peace ; 

Thou  talk'st  of  nothing. 
Mercutio.     True,  I  talk  of  dreams. 

SHAKSPEARE. 

THOUGH  well  nigh  beyond  the  credence  of 
our  cold  Teuton  souls,  stiffened  by  the  chill 
fogs  of  the  north,  still  the  fact  stands  of  a  faculty 
of  improvisation  —  wonderful  improvisation  —  in- 
herent in  Italian  blood;  and  what,  for  example, 
Madame  de  Stael  has  pictured  in  her  Corinne,  so 
far  from  being  a  touch  of  overcoloring  in  that 
brilliant  romance,  is  a  reality  which  can  be 
matched  not  unfrequently  to-day  among  that 
warm-blooded  people.  In  fact,  my  young  com- 
panion, with  an  exterior  so  rustic  and  an  environ- 
ment so  bleak,  yet  with  a  thousand  years  of 
Roman  equestrian  blood  tingling  in  her  veins, 
was  a  genuine  specimen  of  it. 

"  In  a  dream  of  that  sleep,"  she  said,  "if  it  was 

a  sleep  —  or  was  it  a  vision  brought  to  me  by  my 

guardian  angel  ?  —  kindly  sent,  perhaps,  for  my 

enlightenment  and  warning,  by  the  august  and 

196 


OF  MARTIGNY 

loving  patroness  of  my  sister,  Maria  beatissma  ? — 
in  short,  whatever  it  was,  I  seemed,  at  a  wish, 
to  rise  into  the  lofty  air  and  to  be  borne  swiftly 
along",  propelled  and  guided  only  by  my  will. 

"  Do  you  remember,"  she  said,  "  the  words  of 
our  glorious  Dante,  in  the  beginning  of  the  Para- 
diso,  where  he  describes  his  own  introduction  to  a 
knowledge  of  the  upper  spheres."  And  then  she 
quoted: 

And  suddenly  upon  the  day  arose 

Another  day,  as  with  a  second  morn 
And  second  sun  th'  Omnipotent  Dispenser  chose 

The  heaven  with  double  brilliance  to  adorn. 

Here  where  soft  Luna's  silver  cycle  reels, 
Beatrice  stood  in  glorious  light  embowered, 

With  eyes  fast  fixed  upon  the  eternal  wheels  ; 
My  own  on  her  from  heaven  itself  I  lowered. 

'  Why  wonder,'  said  she,  that  thou  can'st  ascend, 
(Now  free  from  fetters),  as  thou  dost  aspire  ? 

'Tis  native,  as  the  torrents  to  the  valleys  tend, 
Or  upward  soars  the  flame  of  living  fire.19 

In  repeating  these  lines,  which  in  common  with 
all  the  better  class  of  peasantry  throughout  Tus- 
cany and  beyond,  I  could  not  doubt,  she  had  been 
familiar  with  from  infancy,  the  feminine  timbre  of 
her  voice  changed  again  into  a  full  orotund, 
declamatory  tone,  her  figure  straightened  to  its 
utmost  height,  her  step  fell  with  a  regular  cadence, 

19? 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

and  her  countenance  beamed  with  a  subdued 
radiance  of  I  know  not  what  to  say  —  of  awe, 
intelligence,  passion. 

I  was  amazed  beyond  expression.  She  whom 
I  had  looked  on  merely  as  a  specimen  —  certainly 
an  interesting  yet  not  quite  wonderful  specimen 
—  of  sentimental  girlhood,  now  aroused  in  me 
something  more  than  interest,  more  than  aston- 
ishment, something  rather  like  a  mixture  of 
Sibylline  and  angelic  reverence. 

"I  seemed,"  she  went  on,  in  that  strange, 
exalted  strain,  gathering  new  inspiration  with 
every  word,  "  I  seemed  in  my  flight  to  pass  over 
cities,  villages,  hamlets,  and  wide  plains  sparsely 
studded  with  human  habitations.  I  saw  moving 
below  me,  as  in  a  vast  panorama,  the  multifarious 
occupations  of  mankind,  the  numberless  varieties 
of  existence,  all  the  vicissitudes  of  human  life. 

"  I  heard  —  for  my  faculty  of  hearing  seemed 
equally  extended  in  compass  with  my  faculties  of 
sight  and  of  locomotion  and  correspondingly 
intensified  in  delicacy — I  heard  the  song  of 
infantile  glee  and  the  wail  of  infantile  woe;  the 
shouts  of  youthful  sport  and  the  laughter  of  care- 
less mirth;  the  coarse  jests  of  swinish  revelers; 
brawling  oaths  of  the  impious;  the  fawning  and 
flattery  of  slaves,  parasites,  false-traders,  and 
seducers;  threats  of  hardhearted  masters  and 
198 


OF  MARTIGNY 

defiant  yells  of  the  down-trodden;  hurrahs  of  the 
full-fed  and  gasps  of  the  famishing;  lovers' 
pledges,  wedded  vows,  the  soft  hum  of  domestic 
joys,  the  howling  of  the  madman,  the  sighing  of 
the  deserted,  natal  festivities,  burial  obsequies. 

"  Over  all  these  and  over  me,  the  twinkling 
stars  looked  down  in  solemn  silence.  The  fickle 
Moon  came  and  saw  and  went  and  returned  per- 
petually her  changing  face,  as  if  in  cold  uncon- 
cern, or  in  scorn.  The  glorious  Sun,  like  a 
Monarch,  mindful  only  of  exalted  duty,  shone, 
with  beams  of  health  and  joy,  alike  on  the  evil 
and  the  good. 

"As  I  passed  thus  swiftly  along,  conducting 
myself  I  knew  not  whither,  there  hove  into  view 
a  troop  of  etherial  forms  passing  also  swiftly  in  a 
direction  to  the  front,  but  obliquely  across  my 
own.  The  leader  was  a  short  space  in  advance  of 
his  company,  an  old  man  whose  snowy  hair  flowed 
far  upon  his  shoulders;  and  an  equally  snowy 
beard  fell  far  down  his  breast.  His  head  was 
uncovered  and  a  lofty  forehead  towered  above 
the  most  benignant  countenance  I  ever  beheld. 
The  whole  company  were  robed  in  drapery  that 
sailed  far  out  behind,  though  so  enveloped  in 
a  nebulous  diffusion,  that  no  more  was  clearly 
defined  than  I  have  described  of  the  leader. 
Their  uncovered  heads  were  youthful  and  their 
199 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

beardless  faces  wore  a  look  of  seriousness  verging 
on  anxiety. 

In  a  moment  I  was  already  so  near  that  I  in- 
voluntarily paused  lest  I  should  collide  with  them 
at  the  point  where  our  paths  were  about  to  inter- 
sect. Even  then  the  nebulous  garments  of  the 
leader  brushed  my  own ;  and  as  he  passed,  with- 
out turning  his  head,  he  said,  in  a  soft  and  silvery 
voice : 

— '  Follow,  if  you  will ! ' 

"  Without  a  thought  or  a  reason,  I  turned  my 
course  and  fell  into  the  train,  almost  abreast  of 
him  on  his  left  hand. 

"  Presently,  without  turning  his  head,  he  said 
again  : 

— '  Whither  bound  ? ' 

— '  I  know  not,'  I  replied. 

— '  Seeking  what  ? '  he  continued. 

— '  Knowledge  and  rest,'  I  answered. 

— '  Follow  in  my  company,'  he  said  'and  if  wor- 
thy, you  shall  be  satisfied.' 

"  A  day  and  a  night,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  we 
sailed  on.  The  sun  disappeared  in  a  shadow  and 
returned  in  glory.  The  moon  sank  behind  the 
mountains  and  rose  again  over  the  valley.  The 
stars,  ever  above  the  horizon,  glistened  and  glided 
on.  in  the  dark  blue  depths  of  heaven,  like  an 
army  with  bayonets  and  banners  interminable. 


OF  MARTIGNY 

Meanwhile,  by  day  and  by  night,  our  company 
was  evermore  growing  in  numbers ;  for,  as  we 
were  continually  meeting  and  passing  other 
groups  and  individuals  moving  in  every  direc- 
tion, all  of  whom  were  greeted  by  our  leader, 
as  I  had  been,  with  the  same  soft  and  silvery 
invitation,  one  and  another  turned  into  our 
course  and  became  part  of  our  company. 

"  At  last  we  alighted  on  a  bald,  rocky  moun- 
tain-top, on  the  verge  of  an  immense  circular 
island,  which  sloped  down  on  every  side,  in  the 
distant  horizon,  to  the  blue  waters  of  the  sea. 
On  the  face  of  these  waters,  which  were  perpet- 
ually rolling  in  tremendous  billows,  lay  through- 
out the  whole  circuit  black  storm-clouds,  on  the 
bosom  of  which  forked  lightnings  were  always 
playing,  and  the  sharp  reports  of  continuous 
thunders,  like  an  incessant  cannonade,  filled  the 
sky  with  everlasting  echoes. 

"  There  was  no  other  access  to  this  island  — 
since  the  surrounding  sea  was  absolutely  unnavi- 
gable  —  than  by  the  rocky  mountain  pass,  whence 
an  enormous  staircase,  cut  in  the  solid  rock, 
descended  from  the  summit  on  which  we  and  all 
others  must  alight  to  the  broad  plain  below.  But 
across  the  head  of  this  staircase  rose  a  lofty 
iron  grating  pierced  by  two  narrow  gates.  Be- 
tween these  two  gates  and  extending  backward 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

from  the  top  of  the  stairs  to  the  brink  of  the 
stormy  sea,  rose  also  another  iron  grating  through 
which  all  could  be  seen,  but  with  no  passageway. 

"  I  now  observed,  as  our  company  gathered  on 
one  side  of  this  impassable  barrier,  that  we  were 
all  of  my  own  sex,  and  I  saw  that  the  similar 
company  gathering  on  the  other  side  were  all  of 
the  other  sex.  I  also  noticed  that  the  most  of 
those  on  either  side  were  busy  grooming  them- 
selves, often  with  great  labor  and  ingenuity ; 
were  much  occupied  in  surveying  each  other 
through  the  impassable  grating ;  and  occasion- 
ally a  pair,  one  on  either  side,  came  together 
and  exchanged  tender  greetings  across  the  bar- 
rier. I  observed,  however,  that  such  conduct  did 
not  meet  with  general  approval,  but  was  some- 
times made  the  subject  of  ridicule  and  sometimes 
of  frowns  and  scorn.  I  saw,  too,  that  this  severe 
rule  sometimes  caused  much  grief  and  shame ; 
and  when  the  delay  was  long,  caused  not  a  few  to 
mope  in  loneliness  and  discontent.  More  than 
once  or  twice  I  saw,  with  unutterable  horror, 
sometimes  one  only,  sometimes  both  leap  from 
the  rock  and  disappear  in  the  billowy  sea. 

"  I  pressed  eagerly  forward  to  our  gate,  and 
finding  it  firmly  locked,  I  stood  surveying  the 
sea-bound  and  storm-bound  enclosure  through 
the  openings  before  me.  The  scene  teemed  with 


OF  MARTIGNY 

animated  beings.  The  breezes  that  swept  over 
it  were  fragrant  with  a  thousand  delicious  odors 
from  flowery  gardens  and  fruitful  fields;  and 
on  their  balmy  bosom  rose  a  confused  murmur 
of  happy  voices  and  varied  occupations. 

"  Shading  my  eyes  from  the  bewildering  bright- 
ness, I  could  discover,  by  closer  scrutiny,  men 
and  women  walking  arm  in  arm  on  the  shining 
sands  of  the  roaring  sea.  Others  were  reclin- 
ing on  the  shoulders  of  their  companions,  under 
the  shade  of  some  tree,  whose  luxuriant  foli- 
age drooped  about  them  in  solemn  majesty  or 
waved  high  over  them  with  plumes  of  joy. 
Others  still,  in  native  grottoes,  through  which 
ran  rivulets,  like  threads  of  silver,  were  em- 
bracing with  impassioned  kisses. 

"  I  observed  immediately,  that  throughout  this 
whole  region  the  inhabitants  were  in  couples,  and 
all  were  wholly  engrossed  with  their  own  part- 
ners —  in  this  respect,  differing  much  from  many 
of  the  pairs  already  alluded  to  outside  the  gates, 
whose  tendernesses  were  of  shorter  duration,  and 
whose  partners  were  often  exchanged. 

"I  had  almost  failed  to  notice,  amidst  the 
stirring  scenes  more  immediately  before  me,  in 
the  far  distance  where  the  lights  and  shadows 
were  less  distinctly  marked,  a  pair  with  whitened 
locks,  seated  in  rustic  arm-chairs,  under  the  danc- 
203 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

ing  shadows  of  a  weeping  willow,  who  seemed  by 
their  gestures  —  for  the  old  man  would  often 
stretch  out  his  trembling  arm  in  one  direction 
and  another,  which  was  followed  by  the  earnest 
gaze  of  the  ancient  dame  —  to  be  recalling  the 
more  lively  scenes  which  lay  in  the  far  distant 
foreground. 

"  The  attention  of  our  company  was  now  aroused 
by  the  soft  and  rapid  notes  of  a  silver  horn. 
Presently  we  saw  three  venerable  men  —  whom 
we  understood  to  be  Homer,  Plato,  and  Virgil  — 
taking  seats  upon  a  kind  of  tribune.  We  began 
crowding  toward  them  to  secure  for  ourselves 
each  a  passport  which,  delivered  to  the  gate- 
keeper, would  send  him  quickly  to  undo  the 
bolts  of  the  narrow  gate  and  usher  the  fortu- 
nate holder  into  the  sequestered  paradise. 

"We  could  see  that  similiar  proceedings  were 
going  forward  on  the  masculine  side  of  the  grated 
1  division.  The  tribune  there,  however,  was  occu- 
pied by  three  feminine  figures,  of  a  grave  and 
commanding  yet  surpassingly  beautiful  presence 
—  the  representatives,  it  was  reported,  of  Fidelity, 
Philosophy,  Passion,  namely  Penelope,  Aspasia, 
Sappho. 

"As  each  applicant  approached  the  judges,  it 
was  necessary  to  pass  through  a  narrow  passage, 
grated  on  either  side,  and  of  such  length  that 
204 


OF  MARTIGNY 

the  words  spoken  while  the  trial  was  going  on 
were  inaudible,  save  to  the  parties  concerned  — 
though  every  movement  was  visible  to  all. 

"  I  gladly  remained  in  the  background,  pre- 
ferring to  see  how  others  would  fare,  before 
putting  my  own  destiny  at  stake.  The  process 
in  every  case  was  quite  uniform,  though  the 
results  were  various.  Each  candidate,  on  enter- 
ing the  narrow  passage,  received  from  the  porter 
a  blank  passport  to  be  laid  before  the  judges, 
each  of  whom  in  turn  propounded  a  single  ques- 
tion, and  according  to  the  answer  returned,  either 
signed  his  name  to  the  document  and  passed  it 
on  to  the  next  judge,  or  crumpled  it  in  his  fist 
and  threw  it  under  the  tribune  —  when  the 
rejected  candidate  was  conducted  beyond  the 
tribune  and  was  seen  no  more.  I  ought  to  add 
that,  as  each  question  was  asked,  the  judge  raised 
something  like  a  telescope  to  his  eye,  directing  it 
against  the  breast  of  the  candidate.  It  was  said 
that  the  glass  revealed  the  truth  whatever  the 
answers  might  be. 

"  All  the  others  of  my  company  had  passed  on, 
experienced  their  various  fortune  and  left  me  in 
the  candidate's  lodge  alone,  when  I  took  from  the 
porter  my  blank  and  moved  toward  the  judge's 
seat.  I  trembled  in  every  limb.  I  had  seen 
many  a  one  turned  sadly  away.  What  hope 
205 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

could  I  have  to  fare  better  ?  —  for  I  did  not  know, 
in  the  least,  what  those  three  tremendous  ques- 
tions were,  on  which  my  fate  must  turn. 

"  I  was,  however,  greatly  encouraged  and  com- 
forted, when  looking  through  the  grated  gate,  I 
saw  the  fortunate  applicants  gaily  descending  the 
great  staircase  within.  Almost  all  were  busily 
pairing;  or  being  already  paired,  were  descend- 
ing, arm  in  arm,  to  the  happier  plains. 

"  Arrived  at  the  tribune,  I  laid  my  blank  pass- 
port with  a  trembling  hand  before  the  judge  who 
sat  on  the  right.  Homer,  if  it  was  he,  without 
lifting  his  glass,  and  with  fixed  eyes,  as  if  looking 
with  second  sight,  demanded: 

— '  Damsel,  swear  to  me,  hast  thou  rejected 
a  once  accepted  lover  ? ' 

— '  No  ! '  I  answered  with  a  trembling  but  em- 
phatic tone. 

"He  waited  for  some  moments,  but  without 
uttering  another  word,  then  took  the  judicial  pen, 
wrote  his  name  across  the  face  of  the  passport 
and  handed  it  with  the  pen  to  his  neighbor. 
Then  Plato,  if  it  was  he,  lifting  the  glass  to  his 
eye,  demanded: 

— '  Maiden,  swear,  hast  thou  scorned  the  affec- 
tion of  a  youth,  or  encouraged  a  hopeless  passion, 
or  sported  with  the  semblance  of  the  all-powerful 
sentiment  without  possessing  the  reality  ? ' 
206 


OF  MARTIGNY 

— '  No  indeed,  no  ! '  I  answered  with  greater 
emphasis  and  less  trembling  than  before;  and  he, 
quickly  laying  aside  the  glass,  lifted  the  pen, 
wrote  his  name  below  the  other,  and  passed  the 
paper  on.  Then  Virgil,  if  it  was  he,  lifting  the 
glass  said: 

— 'Child,  tell  me  true,  hast  thou  an  offer  of 
love  ? ' 

"  This  stung  me  to  the  quick.  I  was  ashamed 
to  confess  the  truth.  But  seeing  the  glass  aimed 
at  my  breast,  revealing,  I  had  no  doubt,  my  secret 
thoughts,  I  dared  not  deny,  or  prevaricate. 
Hanging  my  head  and  with  burning  cheeks,  I 
said  softly: 

— '  No.' 

— 'Child,'  he  replied,  while  he  crushed  and 
threw  away  the  passport,  '  these  fields  are  not  for 
thee  to-day.  Go,  and  some  other  day  thou  may'st 
return,  and  if  found  worthy,  enter  these  gates  of 
delight.' 

"  The  next  instant  a  crash  of  thunder  seemed 
to  burst  from  the  zenith  down  upon  my  head. 
I  sprang  at  the  shock  and  awoke. 

"  The  sash  had  closed.  The  next  moment  Maria 
came  flying  into  the  room  as  on  the  wings  of  the 
the  wind.  I  was  sweating  with  exhaustion  and 
fright." 


207 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 


XX. 

0  Death  you  must  surely  delay; 

My  beautiful  journey  is  far  from  its  goal, 

1  have  hardly  set  out  on  my  way; 

Of  the  o'er-arching  elms  that  emborder  the  whole, 
I  but  passed  the  first  columns  to-day. 

O  death,  I  'm  not  ready  to  rest  ! 
At  the  banquet  of  life  (yet  hardly  begun), 

But  an  instant  my  lips  have  been  pressed 
To  the  brim  of  the  cup  —  I  have  tasted  but  one  — 

Oh,  how  sweet  was  the  soul-thrilling  zest ! 20 

ANDRE  CHENIER. 

^ /*"\H,  M'amie!'  exclaimed   sister,  seeing  the 
V^     drops  on  my  forehead,  'you  were  fright- 
ened, were  n't  you  ? ' 

— 'Yes,  M'amie,'  I  said.  But  the  truth  was,  I 
was  yet  more  surprised  at  seeing  her  looking  so 
happy  and  beautiful. 

"  Presently  she  began  bathing  my  face  with 
a  soft  towel  moistened  in  water  perfumed  from 
one  of  the  new  bottles  on  the  stand.  I  was 
familiar,  as  I  have  said,  with  Aqua  di  Felsina, 
but  this  ravishing  odor  was  different  from  any- 
thing I  had  ever  smelled.  Years  before  I  remem- 
208 


OF  MARTIGNY 

bered  something  comparable  to  it  though  not  the 
same.  It  came  about  in  this  way: 

"  I  once  went  with  Alpine  flowers  to  a  great 
lady  who  was  sick  at  Aosta  in  the  Albergo  della 
Posta.  Her  footman,  a  few  days  before,  had 
stopped  at  our  home,  enquiring  where  such  flow- 
ers could  be  found  for  his  padrona  who  was  ill 
and  longed  for  some.  She  used  to  gather  such 
here  in  her  girlhood;  and  Babbo  then  promised  to 
send  them  to  her. 

"  Maria  and  I  well  knew  where  to  look,  and 
picked  a  lovely  mazzolino  [little  bunch]  and  put  it 
in  a  little  basket  made  of  small  vine-stalks  and 
fir-twigs,  with  the  softest  and  prettiest  mosses 
cool  and  damp  from  the  edge  of  the  glacier  near 
our  house  laid  delicately  around.  It  was  very 
beautiful  indeed,  and  smelled  very,  very  sweet 
when  I  handed  it  to  the  maid,  who  gave  it  into 
the  hand  of  the  lady,  who  was  reclined  among 
great  pillows  and  silken  cushions  on  something 
like  a  chair  and  a  bed  all  in  one. 

"As  soon  as  she  saw  the  basket  and  the 
fragrance  reached  her  (for  it  soon  filled  the 
room),  she  opened  wide  her  beautiful  eyes  and 
spoke,  in  a  soft,  clear  voice: 

''  'A A,  che  questo  /  odore  soavissimo  ! '  [Oh,  how  very 
delicious  this  fragrance  is]. 

"  Then,  as  she  put  out  her  little  hand,  as  white 
209 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

as  the  snow  in  winter,  and  the  fingers  covered 
with  rings  of  gold  and  glittering  with  stones 
white  and  red  and  green,  a  little  fazzoletto  dropped 
upon  the  carpet,  being  flung  by  the  quick  move- 
ment of  her  arm  near  to  me  but  some  distance 
from  her  chair.  I  stooped  and  handed  it  to  the 
maid.  It  was  perfumed  with  a  wonderful  odor; 
and  I  could  n't  help  whispering: 

— '  Oh,  celeste  ! '  [heavenly]. 

— '  Is  that  perfume  agreeable  to  thee,  Piccio- 
letta  ? '  [dear  little  girl]  said  the  lady,  setting  the 
basket  down  on  a  pillow  at  her  side. 

— '  St,  Vostra  Altezza'  [yes,  your  Highness],  I 
said  just  above  a  whisper  (for  I  was  much  fright- 
ened at  her),  '  I  do  think  it  must  be  like  the  per- 
fumes in  Paradise,  for  it  is  sweeter  than  the 
incense  at  the  Mass  for  the  dead.' 

— '  JBuona  Piccioletta  /'  [good,  little  dear],  she 
replied,  'thou  shalt  have  it  then  to  aid  thy 
prayers.' 

"  Then  she  took  this  from  her  own  neck  [here 
my  companion  pointed  to  the  pink  coral  rosary 
hanging  about  her  neck]  and  handed  it  to  the 
maid.  The  crucifix  is  a  bottle  also. 

— ' Lapp <a,'  she  said,  'fill  this  from  the  green- 
and-gold  flask  on  the  further  side  of  the  credenza 
[buffet]  yonder,  and  put  it  into  that  Japanese 
cassettina  (pointing  to  a  little  gold-and-ebony  box 


OF  MARTIGNY 

on  the  toilet  stand),  and  give  to  la  buona  piccioletta ' 
[the  good  little  girl]. 

"  Then,  talking  beautifully  to  me  all  the  while, 
she  drew  a  purse  from  the  bosom  of  her  robe,  and 
taking  out  a  bright  zecchino^  beckoned  to  me  to 
come  near  her,  and  laying  the  shining  piece  of 
gold  in  my  hand,  which  trembled  so  I  could 
hardly  hold  it,  she  said,  with  a  soft,  serious  voice: 

— '  May  our  Lady  keep  thee  as  fair  and  sweet 
as  these  delicious  flowers,  and  make  thee  a  dear 
delight  to  a  good  husband  some  happy  day  ! ' 

"After  the  maid  had  given  me  the  little  box 
the  lady  raised  again  to  her  face  the  basket  I  had 
brought,  and  said  to  me,  as  I  curtesied  backward 
toward  the  door, 

— 'Addio,  tu  bella  e  buona  fanciullina,  a  Dio,  a  Dio!' 
[Goodbye,  God  bless  you,  good  little  beauty.] 

"  Certainly,  as  you  will  suppose,"  said  my  com- 
panion, unclasping  the  rosary  from  her  neck,  and 
offering  me  to  test  the  truth  of  her  assertions 
concerning  it,  "  I  hold  this  too  precious  for  daily 
wear,  or  indeed  ever  to  be  taken  from  the  little 
table  in  our  loft-chamber  under  the  picture  of 
Madonna,  where  I  use  it  morning  and  night  at  my 
prayers.  Except  that  I  take  it  to  the  Church 
three  or  four  times  in  the  year  at  high  Mass,  and, 
as  to-day,  when  I  come  to  pray  for  my  dead. 
The  perfume  is  n't  quite  gone  yet." 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

I  brought  the  cross  near  to  my  face  and  per- 
ceived a  faint  but  delightful  odor;  and  returned 
the  precious  charm  to  the  owner. 

"  It  was  with  some  such  highly  fragrant  water," 
she  continued,  "  that  Maria  was  bathing  my  face 
and  prattling  on  with  her  loving  talk,  when  we 
heard  steps  coming  up  the  walk;  and  presently 
there  came  a  loud  rapping  which  echoed  through 
the  rooms  below. 

— '  Ecco  il  medico!'  [there  's  the  Doctor]  cried 
Maria,  replacing  her  implements  on  the  little 
table  and  starting  for  the  door.  But  before  she 
reached  the  stairs,  the  steps  were  already  inside 
the  outer  door  below.  Hardly  had  she  begun  to 
descend  when  she  retreated,  saying  gaily,  as  she 
reached  out  her  hand: 

— '  Buon  giorno  al  nostro  buon  dottore ! '  [Good 
morning,  good  Doctor !] 

"  Then  turning  towards  me,  as  a  very  large 
man  entered  the  chamber,  carrying  cane  and  hat 
in  one  hand  and  a  black  leathern  box  in  the 
other,  she  said: 

'  Ecco  il  medico,  M'amie  —  questo  e"  il  dottor  Fer rente, 
il  nostro  buonissimo  medico.'  [Dr.  Ferrenti,  dear,  our 
very,  very  nice  physician.] 

"  I  tried  to  smile,  but  was  more  afraid  than 
pleased;  for  he  was  so  tall  that  he  must  stoop  in 
entering  the  chamber,  and  so  broad  that  the 


OF  MARTIGNY 

width  of  the  door  hardly  sufficed  to  let  him  in. 
His  big  head  was  covered  with  coal-black  hair, 
which  hung  low  on  his  shoulders;  and  if  possible, 
a  still  blacker  beard  wholly  unshaven  hung  in  an 
enormous  mass  on  his  breast,  and  covered  his 
face  like  a  bear-skin  mask,  except  where  a  broad 
forehead  lay  above  large,  black,  yet  gentle  eyes, 
and  a  long  Grecian  nose  ran  down  between  until 
it  reached  the  tremendous  moustache  which  only 
failed  to  conceal  the  cherry-red  line  between  it 
and  the  mountains  of  hair  beneath. 

"  I  really  trembled  with  fear  as  I  looked  up  and 
saw  him,  so  big  and  black  and  hairy,  slowly 
approaching  the  bed;  but" — here  she  stopped 
suddenly  short.  I  turned  to  discover  the  cause. 
She  glanced  up  into  my  face.  Our  eyes  met.  I 
saw  that  hers  were  suddenly  swimming  and  at 
the  same  time  I  was  amazed  to  see  that  a  crimson 
blush  was  rising  over  her  whole  face.  I  was 
utterly  at  a  loss  to  account  for  this  apparently 
new  revelation,  and  my  curiosity  would  have 
impelled  me  to  throw  in  an  enquiry  here;  but 
fortunately  delicacy  and  discretion  held  my 
tongue,  and  I  instantly  turned  away  my  eyes 
again  and  made  a  successful  effort  to  look  uncon- 
erned  and  unsuspecting. 

But  she  evidently  felt  that  she  had  already 
gone  too  far  for  an  abrupt  retreat  and  in  a 

213 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

moment,  endeavoring  to  finish  her  sentence,  she 
stammered: 

— 'But  since  —  that  is  —  when  I  learned  to  —  to 
know  him  —  I  came  to  —  to  feel  —  feel  differently 
—  toward  him.  But  he  looked  to  me  then,  so 
like  a  great  wild  bear  of  the  mountains,  that  I 
was  filled  with  dislike  and  fear  of  him  and  wished 
him  quickly  gone. 

— '  Buon  giorno,  si,  si,  buonissimo  giorno,  grazie  a 
Dio,  Signorina '  [Well  done  !  little  lady,  you  look 
better,  I  'm  glad  to  see],  he  said  as  he  approached 
the  bed,  with  a  soft  voice  and  a  sympathetic 
accent  which  at  once  reassured  me,  '  I  'm  so  glad 
to  see  your  begli  occhini  [pretty  eyes]  at  last.' 

"  Then  seating  himself  in  the  carved  oaken 
armchair  that  Maria  had  put  at  the  bedside  for 
him,  he  went  through  the  motions  that  all  the 
doctors  do — holding  my  wrist  a  long  while  in 
one  hand  with  his  watch  in  the  other,  whipping 
out  a  glass  tube  from  his  pocket  and  slipping  it 
under  my  tongue,  laying  his  great  head  down  on 
one  ear  upon  my  bosom,  and  finally  tapping  me 
round  in  many  places  and  asking  me  many  ques- 
tions—  all  which  made  me  feel  very  queer  —  for  I 
had  never  been  attended  by  a  doctor  before.  At 
last,  turning  to  Maria  he  said: 

" '  Tutto  /  buono,  Sicuro,  essa  sta  meglio  oggi.' 
[She  is  certainly  better  to-day  —  symptoms  good.] 

214 


OF  MARTIGNY 

Then,  leaning  back  in  the  armchair,  with  a  grave 
and  gentle  voice  that  soothed  my  nerves  and  won 
at  once  the  whole  confidence  of  my  soul,  he  said  : 

— '  Signorine,  listen  and  carefully  obey  ' — 

— 'We  will,  we  will,  Signer  Medico' — we  both 
in  a  breath  interjected. 

— '  Qitesta  signorettina '  [this  dear-little-young- 
lady],  he  went  on,  'must  not,  for  one  week  more, 
at  least,  go  out  of  this  room,  nor  gaze  into  the 
sky ' —  I  had  told  him,  in  answer  to  one  of  his 
questions,  something,  not  all,  of  my  sky-dream  — 
4  nor  look  down  from  this  window,  nor  even  from 
the  top  of  the  stairs.' 

"  Then  reaching  for  the  black  box  and  taking 
out  a  little  package,  which  he  laid  on  the  stand, 
he  said: 

— '  These  pellets  are  to  be  taken  according  to 
the  directions  within.'  Then,  drawing  out  two 
bottles,  he  said: 

'Here  is  Mantuan  of  an  especial  quality  — 
both  grape  and  make — which  I  require  the 
Count  to  keep  always  by  him.  Indeed,  it  is  out 
of  the  lot  which  my  nephew  was  bringing  when 
his  mishap  occurred.  I  would  have  it  taken  quite 
freely. 

'  For  meals,  you  will  see  on  the  prescription 
card  of  yesterday  what  I  still  recommend.  The 
game  I  will  send  —  at  all  events,  the  quail  and 

215 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

i 

partridge  —  while  I  stay  at  Martigny,  which  will  be 
some  days  yet. 

'  Now  as  to  my  nephew,'  he  continued,  '  and 
the  Count's  waiting-man,  who  has  been  here  these 
four  days,  I  shall  take  them  with  me  to  the  Hotel 
to-day.  I  wish  to  have  Lutgi  nearer  to  me  for 
more  constant  examination  and  for  some  more 
frequent  surgical  applications  which  can  only  be 
executed  by  my  own  hand.  I  wish,  also,  at  this 
earliest  possible  moment,  to  relieve  you  all  here 
of  a  burden  you  have  borne  too  long  already. 
But  for  his  daily  airings  I  will  for  some  days  yet 
have  him  brought  here,  for  the  stay  of  an  hour  or 
two,  till  the  dog  shall  get  acquainted  with  his 
new  masters,  the  pastures  and  the  flocks  ' — 

— '  Ah,  that  dreadful  dog,'  I  said.  '  will  he  ever 
come  to  obey  us  and  love  us  ? ' 

— '  Most  surely  he  will,'  said  the  doctor,  '  I  have 
known  him  long.  He  is  of  the  noblest  blood  and 
perfectly  educated.  When  once  he  understands 
that  you  are  his  master's  friends,  he  will  give  his 
allegiance  to  you,  and  there  is  nothing  he  will 
not  do  for  you.  He  will  work  for  you  and  guard 
you  even  with  his  life.' 

'  I  shall  have  the  honor  of  presenting  him  to 
your  Signer  Padre,  as  a  part  (if  I  may  call  so  insig- 
nificant a  gift  a  part)  of  the  poor  return  we  shall 
find  it  in  our  power  to  make  for  services  that 
216 


OF  MARTIGNY 

have  been  the  price  of  his  life.  The  tender  care, 
the  labor,  the  suffering,  and  I  may  truly  add  the 
peril,  hardly  yet  passed,  of  this  giovanettina  [sweet 
little  young  woman],  I  can  never  hope  to  requite, 
except  by  the  poor  tribute  of  my  infinite  thanks, 
and  my  daily  prayers  that  Iddio  will  bountifully 
repay  her  and  you  all  in  His  own  heavenly  coin. 

'As  to  the  money,  Luigi  shall  have  the  fifty 
scudi  he  demands  for  the  dog.  If  it  were  fifty 
times  fifty,  I  should  gladly  give  it,  for  the  love  of 
his  Mother,  now  in  Paradiso  —  May  our  Lady 
comfort  her ! ' 

"  His  voice  trembled  so  as  to  be  almost  inaudi- 
ble. He  paused  a  moment,  and  I  saw  a  tear 
standing  in  the  corner  of  his  eye.  But  he 
went  on: 

'  I  owe,  I  owe  to  her  all  the  promotion  and 
success  I  have  attained  in  the  world.' 

— '  Oh,  tell  us,  Signor  Dottore,  tell  us  about  her,' 
we  both  said  in  one  breath. 

— '  You  have  heard  of  the  plague  that  prevailed 
in  the  Marches,  and  especially  swept  over  Ancona 
and  the  environs  forty  years  ago  ? 

— '  Si,  si,  sicuro,  Dottore,'  I  said,  '  I  have  heard 
Babbo  say  that  some  of  his  relations  were  carried 
off  by  it,  and  there  was  a  little  property  in  the 
division  coming  to  us  —  some  curious  ancient 
things  especially,  which  he  would  have  been  very 
217 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

glad  to  get;  but,  at  the  time,  on  account  of  the 
pest  and  fear  of  infection,  the  doganieri  [custom- 
house officers],  would  allow  nothing  to  pass,  and 
there  being  nobody  there  to  represent  us  and 
care  for  them,  when  the  disease  was  over  and  the 
fright  gone,  they  were  at  last  sold  for  expenses, 
and  nothing  from  them  came  to  us. 

— '  Sister  and  I,'  he  continued,  '  were  then  made 
orphans.  I  was  eight,  she  twelve.  Our  cottage 
and  garden  were  let  for  a  long  term  at  sixty 
scudi.  Sister  went  to  service  with  the  Parroco 
[rector  of  the  parish].  He,  for  her  service,  gave 
me  my  food  and  taught  me  Latin.  The  sixty 
scudi  partly  bought  her  clothes  and  mine,  and 
part  she  spun  and  wove  and  made;  and  did  it 
mostly  in  the  night  time. 

'  But  when  I  went  up  to  the  University,  then 
came  the  pinch.  She  went  barefoot  that  I  might 
have  shoes,  and  in  rags,  that  I  might  have  books. 
And  one  thing  more  —  the  hardest  of  all  I  think 
for  honest  maiden-pride  to  bear  —  when  the 
summons  of  my  enrollment  came  and  the  con- 
scription office  must  be  settled  with,  she  was 
already  betrothed.  With  my  diploma  one  hun- 
dred zecchini  would  free  me  from  going  into  the 
barracks,  Our  patrimony  had  just  been  sold  for 
one  hundred  zecchini.  One-half  of  this  was  hers; 
and  was  her  only  dowry.  She  gave  up  to  me  her 
218 


share.  I  went  free,  and  she  went  to  her  husband, 
as  we  say,  '  in  her  shift.' 

'Ah,  yes,  she  was  a  saint,  and  finally  a  martyr, 
I  may  say,  to  her  universal  charity  —  to  her 
struggles  for  me  and  for  others.  Grazie  a  Dio,  I 
had  the  privilege  to  nurse  her  through  her  last 
sickness.  She  took  in  a  poor  stranger  who  fell 
sick  at  her  door.  He,  through  her  self -exhausting 
efforts  recovered,  and,  blessing  God  and  her,  went 
on  his  way.  She  was  struck  by  the  contagion  he 
brought  and  died.  I  took  her  last  kiss  and  gave 
her  the  last.  I  closed  her  eyes.  Ah,  me  !  I 
would  have  died  for  her.  I  should  be  glad  to 
take  her  chances  at  the  Judgment  Day. 

'  Luigi  was  twelve  when  he  lost  her.  The  dear 
fellow  has  a  soul  so  like  hers.  He  has  been 
everything  to  his  father,  and  I  may  say  also  to 
me, —  though  my  duties  have  kept  me  much  apart 
from  him.  We  can  see  his  mother's  face,  and 
hear  a  reminder  of  her  wonderful  voice  in  his. 
He  has  had  a  hard  life.  I  fear  a  harder  is  yet 
before  him.  The  rule  of  conscription  is  stricter 
now  than  ever.  Still  I  do  not  despair.  I  shall 
do  all  I  can  ;  and  se  piace  a  Dio  [if  it  please 
God],  I  hope  to  get  him  off  at  least  from  the 
barracks.' 

— '  Oh  do,  do,'  we  said  together;  and  I  think  the 
doctor  saw  the  tears  in  Maria's  eyes  and  mine; 
219 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

for  he  gave  an  understanding  look  and  said  paren- 
thetically, yet  tenderly, 

— ' Buone  fanciulline  !'  [dear,  good  girls],  and 
continued:  '  And  for  this  reason,  I  am  going  to 
send  him  home  by  the  way  of  Leuk  and  the 
Simplon.  At  the  Leukerbad  I  left  an  old  friend,  a 
militare.  He  is  an  officer  of  rank  and  influence 
on  the  staff  of  General  Oudinoto,  the  Commandante 
of  the  Emperor's  army  in  Lombardia.  He  has 
twice  owed  his  life  to  me. 

— '  Oh,  Signor  Dottore  ! '  I  exclaimed. 

— '  How  he  must  love  you  ! '  added  Maria. 

— '  What  a  heavenly  thing,  I  said,  it  must  be  to 
be  a  doctor  —  a  good  and  great  doctor  like  you, 
who  can  destroy  the  disease  before  it  destroys 
the  people.' 

— '  Yes,'  said  Maria  softly,  '  it  makes  me  think 
of  San  Michele,  the  archangel,  driving  Lucifero  out 
of  heaven.' 

— '  Hold,  hold,  SignorineJ  whispered  the  doctor, 
with  a  cunning  twinkle  in  his  eye,  and  striking 
towards  us,  repressively,  with  the  palms  of  each 
hand,  '  this  is  all  true  enough,  at  least,  I  should 
hope  so,  but  in  this  case,  Signorine,  it  was  not 
it  medico  but  /' amico  [not  medicine,  but  love],  that 
saved  him.' 

— 'Tell  us,  tell  us  about  it,  then,  Signor  Dot- 
tor  ej  we  both  urged. 

220 


OF  MARTIGNY 

— 'The  first  time,'  he  replied,  'was  when  we 
were  boys  at  college  in  Milano.  We  were  both 
poor  and  unknown.  We  had  walked  over  to  Como 
the  day  before.  In  the  morning  we  had  seen 
many  sights  ;  visited  the  beautiful  old  marble 
Cathedral,  with  its  statues,  at  the  entrance,  of 
the  elder  and  the  younger  Pliny  (who  were  both 
born  in  Como),  and  the  rare  pictures  on  the  walls ; 
spent  an  hour  among  the  silk-factories ;  and  in 
the  afternoon  we  went  down  to  the  west  side  of 
the  town  near  the  quay  to  see  the  statue  of  the 
famous  electrician,  Volta,  whose  birthplace  and 
home  was  Como,  and  whose  great  discoveries  we 
were  then  studying. 

'  Later  we  sauntered  on  outside  the  pier  and 
lounged  a  while  in  the  Giardino  Publico,  beside 
the  lake.  The  afternoon  was  hot.  My  young 
friend,  who  was  a  perfect  water-duck,  as  I  also 
was,  proposed  a  swim.  Like  boys,  as  we  were,  to 
say  it  was  to  do  it.  In  a  trice,  we  had  unrobed 
and  plunged  in.  We  were  many  rods  away 
from  the  bathers'  beach  and  the  guy-ropes  which 
are  stretched  some  distance  into  the  water  for 
their  protection.  The  water  in  this  spot  was  not 
of  the  warmest,  and  no  doubt  we  had  remained 
in  it  longer  than  we  ought. 

'At  all  events,  while  we  were  floating  and  turn- 
ing somersaults,  and  performing  various  freaks 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

and  frolics,  a  good  way  from  the  shore,  I  heard  a 
cry  and  saw  him  disappear.  The  distance  be- 
tween us  was  considerable  and  I  did  not  at  first 
think  of  any  danger,  but  supposed  that  he  had 
called  me  to  observe  some  trick  he  was  going  to 
execute. 

'  But  after  waiting  until  I  became  alarmed,  I 
swam  to  the  spot,  dove  to  the  bottom,  found  him 
fast  clenched  to  some  root  or  log,  tore  him  away, 
rose  with  him  to  the  surface,  and  bore  him  on  my 
back  to  the  shore. 

'At  first  I  laid  him  on  the  hot  sand.  The  water 
poured  from  his  mouth  and  his  nostrils.  But  his 
breath  was  gone,  his  heart  was  still,  his  face  was 
livid.  I  was  frightened  almost  out  of  my  life.  I 
was  alone.  The  bathing  hour  was  passed  and 
the  beach  was  then  deserted. 

'  I  knew  well  that  time  was  life  or  death  to  him. 
I  thought  of  nothing  else.  I  snatched  him  up, 
just  as  we  were,  swung  him  upon  my  back,  and 
started  for  a  country-seat  which  stood  on  the 
mountain-side,  at  the  end  of  a  straight  lane, 
overlooking  the  spot. 

'I  ran  with  my  utmost  speed  up  the  gentle 
acclivity,  but  the  weight  of  my  burden  and  my 
fright  soon  began  to  tell  on  my  strength.  Feel- 
ing my  load  growing  heavier,  and  my  energies 
steadily  failing,  my  alarm  increased  lest  I  should 


not  by  my  utmost  effort  be  able  to  sustain  the 
strain  till  help  could  be  reached,  and  this  dread 
contributed  every  moment  more  and  still  more  to 
exhaust  my  remaining  powers. 

'The  distance  to  the  villa  was  a  good  half  mile; 
but  I  had  not  gone  a  hundred  rods  when  I  saw  a 
cloud  of  dust  rising  in  front  of  me  a  good  way  up 
the  road.  I  could  not  tell  what  it  was,  but  it 
flashed  into  me  a  little  hope  and  I  struggled 
on  yet  more  intensely. 

'  A  few  moments  afterwards  the  blessed  reality 
dawned  upon  me.  The  coach  of  the  proprietor 
of  the  villa  was  descending  for  the  usual  evening 
drive  along  the  romantic  borders  of  this  charm- 
ing water. 

'  It  did  n't  need  even  my  cry  of  distress  to  ex- 
plain the  situation.  The  first  glance  told  all. 
The  word  was  given.  The  horses  were  pulled 
upon  their  haunches.  The  reins  were  thrown  to 
the  footman.  The  coachman  leaped  from  the 
box.  The  gentleman  sprang  from  the  carriage. 
The  lady  descended  with  a  little  scream  and 
threw  around  me  a  shawl  torn  from  her  own 
shoulders.  The  little  daughter  followed  and 
added  another.  My  companion  was  quickly 
wrapped  in  the  livery-blankets  and  lifted  in 
the  arms  of  the  two  men.  In  less  time  than  it 
takes  to  tell  it,  the  doubly-loaded  coach  was  re- 
223 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

turning  to  the  house  with  horses  at  a  gallop,  and 
the  footman  left  to  gather  up  our  garments  on 
the  beach. 

'  Five  minutes  later,  the  surgeon  of  the  house, 
with  all  needful  assistants  and  every  suitable  ap- 
pliance, was  doing  his  utmost  on  the  body  of  my 
young  friend.  During  a  considerable  time  his 
life  hung  in  the  balance,  or  rather  the  balance 
still  turned  against  it.  The  whole  household 
stood  in  intense  and  painful  suspense.  The 
serving-men  went  about  shaking  their  heads 
with  an  occasional  meaning  snort.  The  maids 
kept  up  a  sobbing  and  sighing  over  their  half- 
neglected  duties.  The  gentleman  and  lady  sat 
on  the  balcony  hand  in  hand,  in  silence,  looking 
out  on  the  treacherous  water,  and  thinking  many 
sad  and  solemn  thoughts.  The  little  daughter 
was  crouched  on  a  low  stool  at  their  feet, 
weeping. 

'  It  is  enough  to  say  that  his  life  was  at  last 
found  to  be  in  him;  and  after  hours  of  skilled  and 
tireless  treatment,  he  was  quietly  sleeping  in  bed 
with  a  watcher  sitting  at  the  bedside. 

'  I  was  courteously  entertained  for  the  night, 
and,  refreshed  with  repose,  returned  strong  and 
well  to  my  College  duty  on  the  morrow.  The 
place  I  have  never  since  visited,  and  these  good 
people  I  have  never  since  seen. 
224 


OF  MARTIGNY 

'  My  young  friend  remained  to  convalesce  in 
the  care  of  the  surgeon  and  under  the  hospitality 
of  the  lovely  and  motherly  Countess.  After  some 
weeks  he  returned  to  College  with  strength 
recovered.  But,  I  may  say,  that  he  not  only 
recovered  his  health,  but  found  much  more  there, 
—  through  this  strange  introduction  of  mine. 

'That  house  became  thereafter  his  second 
home.  His  vacations  were  spent  there.  That 
little  daughter  grew  larger  and  lovelier  at  each 
returning  visit;  and  he  grew  manlier  and  wiser 
as  the  years  went  on.  You  know  the  rest.  His 
charming  wife  to-day,  and  the  mother  of  his  chil- 
dren, was  then  the  sweet  child  of  that  household, 
who  first  met  him  under  the  extraordinary  cir- 
cumstances which  so  touched  her  little  heart.  It 
has  been  largely  through  the  powerful  influence 
of  her  family  and  its  wide  connections  that  he 
has  risen  in  the  military,  and  indeed  into  partic- 
ular favor  with  His  Majesty  the  Emperor. 

'Four  years  ago,  in  the  battle  of  Novara,  we 
were  together  on  the  staff  of  Carlo  Alberto.  His 
horse  was  blown  to  pieces  under  him  by  a  shell, 
and  he  fell  into  my  arms  with  a  severed  leg- 
artery.  His  life  would  have  ebbed  away  in  less 
than  three  minutes.  With  thumb  and  knee  I 
held  the  hemorrhage  back  for  more  than  two 
hours,  till  an  ambulance  and  assistance  came.  In 
225 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

the  hospital  I  watched  it,  I  may  say,  without 
winking,  till  the  essential  tissues  had  knit. 

'  He  is  all  in  my  interest  and  will  do  anything 
possible  for  me.  I  hope  he  will  be  able  to  per- 
suade his  chief  to  recommend  Luigi  for  the  Em- 
peror's relief  from  the  conscription. 

'  The  fact  is  that  he  ought  to  receive  a  certifi- 
cate and  relief  on  the  ground  of  incapacity.  I 
find  him  much  injured.  I  do  not  know  how 
much.  I  have  great  fears  both  for  his  head  and 
lungs.  It  will  require  time,  at  the  best,  to  make 
him  sound  again.  If  he  were  to  be  put  in  bar- 
racks now,  I  should  fear  the  worst.  But  we  will 
try  —  I  may  say,  we  will  pull  hard  —  to  avoid  that.' 

"  Rising  to  go,  he  laid  on  the  stand  a  purple 
leathern  purse,  which  contained,  as  we  afterwards 
found,  one  hundred  golden  ducats,  saying  in  a 
hurried  way: 

'  Will  you  have  the  goodness  to  present  this  to 
your  Signor  Padre  with  my  compliments  ...  I  may 
say  .  .  .  my  most  distinguished  regard  ?  I  shall 
hope  to  see  you  all  again  during  the  week.  If  my 
directions  are  followed,  I  am  sure  I  shall  not 
be  needed.  But  in  any  emergency,  of  course 
you  will  send  for  me.  .  .  .  Addio  Signorine!' 

"  With  these  words,  responded  to  by  our  '  Addio, 
addio  buono  Signor  Dottore,'  he  bowed  himself 
out  of  the  room  and  descended,  followed  by 
226 


OF  MARTIGXY 

Maria.  The  preparations  below,  which  I  could 
indistinctly  hear  through  the  closed  doors,  lasted 
a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  then  I  heard  retreating 
footsteps  outside,  and  finally  the  gradually  dimin- 
ishing sound  of  a  char  rolling  away. 


ROAD  TO   MARTIGNY   FROM   CASA   OMBROSINI. 


227 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 


XXL 

"Alive  as  the  wind-harp,  how  gently  soever 
If  wooed  by  the  Zephyr,  to  music  will  quiver, 
Is  Woman  to  Hope  and  to  Fear."25 

SCHILLER,  Bulwer's  Translation. 

((  A  FTER  the  last  sounds  of  departure  had 
-/~V  ceased  and  the  lessening  rattle  of  the 
vanishing  char  had  faded  out  in  the  distance, 
and  all  was  noiseless  in  the  house  save  the 
monotonous  clicking  of  the  cuckoo-clock  in  the 
kitchen,  and  only  the  tinkle  of  the  mountain  riv- 
iilets  mingling  with  the  soft,  sad  diapason  of  the 
moaning  fir-tree  tops  floated  on  the  bosom  of  the 
solemn  stillness  abroad,  and  my  heart  was  sink- 
ing every  moment  deeper  into  a  sentiment  of 
loneliness  and  despair,  Maria  again  appeared, 
and  as  she  entered,  stepped  briskly  up  to  the 
little  stand  at  the  bedside,  saying  in  her  gayest 
tones  : 

— '  Now,  M'amte,  we  must  do  our  best  to  get 
you  well,  and  that,  too,  as  soon  as  we  can.'     Then, 
as  she  took  up  the  package  and  examined  the 
228 


OF  MARTIGNY 

doctor's  pencilling  on  the  label,  she  added,  '  We 
must  obey  the  orders  of  the  Medico  very  carefully,' 
and  went  on  reading  aloud  :  "Per  Signorina  Marta 
Ombrosini — Istruzione  dentro"  and  began  untying 
the  packet.  It  was  elegantly  put  up,  First  there 
was  a  white  wrapper  fastened  with  blue  twine. 
Next,  a  blue  wrapper  fastened  with  yellow  twine. 
When  the  second  wrapper  was  opened,  a  pink 
paper  box  appeared,  and  a  card  dropped  on  the 
floor.  The  box  Maria  handed  directly  to  me, 
while  she  stooped  to  recover  the  card.  Open- 
ing the  box,  I  found  a  phial  and  two  small 
boxes,  one  purple,  the  other  white,  each  sepa- 
rately wrapped  in  the  softest  orange-colored  tis- 
sue paper.  Maria  then  gave  me  the  card  which 
she  had  been  closely  examining.  I  had  never 
before  seen  a  prescription,  much  less  one  by  a 
physician  to  nobility.  The  card  had  a  gilt  edge 
and  a  gilt  border  half  as  broad  as  the  yellow 
spots  on  the  neck  of  a  pheasant.  At  the  top 
was  a  picture  of  the  Buon  Samaritano,  also  in 
gilt,  and  the  letters  G.  F.  curiously  wound  in 
together  and  printed  upon  it  in  scarlet  ink. 
Below,  it  was  partly  printed  and  partly  written. 
I  keep  it  still  in  my  treasure-box,  and  have 
read  it  over  a  thousand  times  since.  It  said: 

"  PRESCRIZIONE  NUMERO  51,  C.     Ottobre  28,  1854. 

'  Of  pellets  in  the  white  box,  two  every  four 
229 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

hours  —  but  if  the  patient  sleeps,  on  waking.  If 
nausea  occur,  intermit  four  hours,  and  use,  in- 
stead, one  half-teaspoonful  from  the  phial  in  a 
wine-glass  of  water. 

'  One  pellet  from  the  purple  box  before  retiring 
and  before  siesta. 

1  Moderate  meals  four  times  daily.  Avoid  salted 
flesh-meat  or  fish  and  acids.  Mutton  or  venison, 
game,  milk,  vegetables,  and  fruit  are  commended. 

'  Use  the  Mantuan  freely  at  meals. 

'  Former  directions  cancelled,  except  the  con- 
finement, the  medicated,  clinic  bath,  and  the  in- 
halations from  the  green  bottle.  p  , 

"At  that  moment  the  cuckoo  in  the  kitchen 
sung  four.  It  was  the  hour  for  executing  my 
clinic  bath.  This,  according  to  the  orders  of  the 
Medico,  was  done  in  little  sections,  as  I  could  bear 
it,  and  with  a  medicinal  infusion  and  temperature 
which,  as  far  as  possible,  was  an  imitation  of  the 
Leukerbad.  The  medications  and  the  necessary 
thermometer  had  been  left  by  the  Medico  on  his 
previous  visit." 

Being  then  in  my  youth,  and  not  largely  ac- 
quainted with  Italy  or  its  people,  I  was  struck  by 
the  extreme  and  seemingly  unnecessary  extent 
and  minuteness  of  the  physician's  orders  in  a 
case  which  seemed  to  me  neither  apparently 
230 


OF  MARTIGNY 

dangerous  in  its  outlook,  nor  especially  amena- 
ble to  physic.  But  since  I  have  come  to  know 
the  practitioners  of  Italy  better,  and  their  scien- 
tific and  moral  standing  in  the  profession  —  and  I 
believe  that,  as  a  class,  there  is  not  in  the  world 
a  more  learned,  skillful,  and  painstaking  company 
of  professional  gentlemen  —  I  find  that  the  great 
Ferrenti  did  what  and  only  what  I  must  expect, 
according  to  the  limits  of  his  possibilities,  from 
every  humblest  practitioner  in  Italy. 

"  The  imitation  of  the  Leukerbad  finished,  Maria 
dressed  my  hair  anew,  and  perfumed  my  cheeks 
and  temples  from  the  ampulletta  on  the  stand. 
Then,  having  given  me  the  first  pellets,  and  sit- 
ting down  by  the  bed,  she  took  my  hand  in  one 
of  hers,  and  smoothing  it  with  the  other  —  an  old 
habit  of  ours  when  alone  together — she  said,  hes- 
itating a  little  and  looking  down  into  her  lap,  and 
I  thought,  blushing  slightly  : 

— 'M'amie,  you  are  so  much  better  now  —  I  am 
so  curious  —  I  want  to  know  —  I  am  dying  to  hear 
it  —  would  you  mind  telling  me  about  you  and 
Luigi — that  is,  what  happened  to  him  —  I  mean, 
how  you  got  hurt  —  what  maddened  the  dog  ? ' 

— '  Why,  /  don't  know,  M'amt'e,'  I  said.  '  How 
did  I  come  to  be  in  this  bed  ? ' 

— '  I  don't  know  exactly,'  she  replied. 

— '  But  what  do  you  know,'  I  said. 
231 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

— 'Well,  when  Babbo  came  out  to  the  pasture, — 
it  was  the  Upper  Meadow,  you  know  —  and  took 
charge  of  the  sheep,  and  sent  me  in,  I  found  you 
on  our  bed,  wrapped  in  a  blanket.  The  Medico 
had  been  here  and  left  instructions  and  gone 
away.  This  cot  and  stand  and  easy-chair  and 
some  of  the  phials  were  in  the  room.  But  — 

— '  Do  n't  you  know  how  I  got  here  ? '  I  inter- 
rupted. 

— '  Babbo  told  me,'  she  replied,  '  that  as  he  was 
coming  up  the  path  with  the  Medico  and  the  wait- 
ing man,  they  all  heard  a  very  sharp  growl,  and 
looking  up,  saw,  through  the  window,  something 
like  a  woman's  dress  flying  across  the  room,  and 
instantly  started  to  run  with  all  their  might  for 
the  house.  When  the  Medico,  who  was  a  few 
steps  in  advance,  arrived  at  the  door  of  the  room, 
he  turned  around  to  Babbo  and  the  waiting-man, 
and  exclaiming : 

' Per  I'  amor  di  Dio ! '  [good  heavens],  beckoned 
to  them  to  stop. 

'Then,  while  they  stood  outside  in  a  great 
fright  and  wonder,  he  flew  in.  They  heard 
loud  thumpings  and  thrashings  and  the  tremen- 
dous voice  of  the  Medico  rebuking  the  dog.  Then 
came  a  hoarse,  guttural  sound,  as  if  the  beast 
were  being  throttled.  Then  there  was  a  silence; 
and  not  being  willing  to  remain  any  longer  in 
232 


OF  MARTIGNY 

doubt,  they  opened  the  door  to  follow  the  Medico. 
But,  before  they  had  crossed  the  kitchen,  they 
met  him  coming  out  of  the  sick-room  with  you  in 
his  great  arms,  wrapped  close  from  head  to  feet 
in  his  own  traveling-blanket,  which  he  happened 
to  have  in  his  hand.  Calling  to  Babbo  to  show 
the  way  to  some  other  room,  he  brought  you  here 
and  put  you,  all  in  the  blanket,  like  a  mummy, 
into  this  bed.' 

— '  Is  that  all  you  know  ? '  I  asked. 

— '  About  all,'  she  answered.  '  I  found  your 
best  holiday  gown  on  the  floor,  a  petticoat,  apron, 
and  other  things  a  pile  of  rags.  I  was  kept  till 
dark  combing  out  your  touseled  hair,  washing  off 
a  hundred  soiled  spots,  and  patching  the  long 
scratches  with  the  empiastri  which  the  Medico  had 
left.  I  did  n't  find  the  rosette  till  — ' 

— '  When  did  the  young  man  come  to  himself  ? ' 
I  broke  in. 

— '  I  don't  know,'  she  replied. 

— '  Did  the  Medico  say  anything  about  it  ? '  I 
insisted. 

— '  Not  —  not  to  me,  but  I  think  he  told  Babbo 
that  the  patient  era  svegliato  [was  awake]  when  he 
first  saw  him.' 

'  Mon  Dieu!'  I  screamed,  starting  to  rise,  but 
Sister  gently  laid  me  down  again.  My  cheeks 
burned.  I  covered  my  face  with  my  hands  and 

233 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

sobbed  :  "  Then  he  saw  it  —  he  saw  it  all !  —  Oh, 
how  can  I  ever  meet  him  again  !  " 

— '  Perhaps  you'll  not  have  to  meet  him/  said 
Sister,  tenderly  ;  but  this  was  the  hardest  blow  of 
all,  though  she  struck  it  innocently.  I  burst  into 
tears.  I  could  only  sob: 

— '  Pity  me,  pity  me,  holy  Virgin  !  —  I  tended 
him  all  day  —  like  a  frightened  slave  —  I  was 
bringing  him  the  medicine  —  I  tripped  on  the 
rug —  (of  course,  this  was  a  lie,  a  white  lie,  but  I 
could  n't  tell  the  truth)  —  and  the  dreadful  dog — 
the  horrid  beast,  sprang  upon  me  —  that  is  all  I 
know  —  till  I  awoke  in  this  bed.' 

— '  O  M  'amie  ! '  cried  Maria,  gently,  yet  doubt- 
ingly. 

— '  I  swear  by  the  holy  Cross,'  said  I,  impa- 
tiently, 'that  is  all  7  know.  But  why  do  you 
seem  to  doubt?' 

— 'Perhaps  I  was  mistaken,'  she  replied,  'but  I 
thought  I  overheard  Luigi  telling  the  doctor  that 
your  face  was  close  to  his  on  the  pillow.  I 
thought  it  likely  that  in  your  excitement  and 
pity  over  the  poor  fellow,  unconscious  and 
moaning  so,  you  kissed  his  forehead  —  naturally 
enough,  too.' 

"  At  this  I  was  crazed,  and  swore  an  awful  oath 
by  the  Mother  of  God.  It  was  only  after  the 
worst  penance  I  ever  got,  that  I  was  absolved. 
234 


OF  MARTIGNY 

Maria  put  her  hand  lovingly  over  my  mouth, 
and  said  : 

— '  Hush,  M  'amt'e,  it's  all  right.  We  all  know 
that  it  is  a  true,  dear,  good  girl  you  are.'  Then 
we  heard  Babbo  coming  in,  and  she  went  below." 

Here  my  companion  seemed  out  of  breath,  and 
turning  aside  to  a  green  bank  facing  the  west, 
under  the  shade  of  an  old  beach,  she  said  : 

"  Let  us  sit  down  a  bit  here.  The  story  goes 
now  rapidly  to  the  end.  Or,  perhaps  you  do  n't 
care  to  hear  any  more.  Why  should  you  afflict 
yourself  with  my  trouble  ?  " 

I  entreated  her  to  go  on  to  the  end.  So  we  sat 
down,  at  a  little  distance  from  each  other,  on  the 
bank.  She  put  her  shoes  beside  her  and  laid  her 
hat  upon  them.  Then  suddenly  rising,  she  went 
a  few  steps  along  the  bank,  and  presently  re- 
turned with  several  small,  blue  flowers  in  her 
hand,  one  of  which  she  gave  me,  and  resuming 
her  seat  and  raising  to  her  face  the  bunch  which 
she  held,  she  said  : 

"  O,  Signore,  senta  !  —  che  tf  e  di  piu  dolce  ?  " 

I  brought  it  to  my  nose,  as  she  bade  me,  and 
repeated  her  words  :  What  is  there  sweeter  ? 

"  It  was  partly  these,"  she  added,  "  that  I  car- 
ried to  the  Signora  at  Aosta-." 

After  a  little  pause,  toying  with  the  flowers, 
she  proceeded:  "Maria  returned,  bringing  a 

235 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

small  Sevres  vase  which  had  belonged  to  our 
Nonina  [dear  grandmamma],  filled  with  these 
flowers.  It  had  been  standing  in  Luigi's  room, 
but  now  she  thought  I  would  enjoy  them. 

— ' Mille  graziej  [a  thousand  thanks],  I  said, 
'and  who  gathered  them  for  him?' 

— 'I  —  I  did  —  I  picked  them,'  she  whispered. 

— '  Did  he  ask  you  for  them  ? '  I  replied,  my 
heart,  rather  than  my  head,  speaking,  and  hardly 
knowing  what  I  said. 

— '  N-o-o-o  —  not  exactly,'  she  replied,  —  '  he 
never  asked  —  never  — never  asked  for  anything; 
but  he  saw  one  in  my  —  my  hand  as  I  approached 
his  bed  one  day,  and  looking  up  into  my  face  with 
a  smile,  drew  it  from  between  my  fingers,  and 
held  it  so  lovingly,  and  smelled  it  and  gazed  on 
it  so  earnestly,  that  as  soon  as  I  was  free,  you 
know  the  spot,  M'amie,  I  went  and  picked  this 
vase  full  and  put  it  on  the  little  table  beside  his 
pillow,  where  he  could  look  at  them  and  smell 
them  as  he  lay  there  so  suffering  and  sad.' 

"  I  made  no  reply,  for  I  was  holding  the  vase 
and  alternately  smelling  the  flowers  and  look- 
ing at  them  and  thinking.  It  was  so  pleasant 
to  me  to  remember  that  Luigi  had  gazed  on 
them,  and  smelled  them,  and  enjoyed  them;  and 
indeed  I  was  in  full  sympathy  with  her  when 
in  a  trembling  voice  she  continued: 
236 


OF  MARTIGNY 

'And  I  was  so  thankful  that  he  did  enjoy 
them  —  poor  fellow!  He  was  so  feeble  and  so 
lonely  and  so  distressed  thinking  of  his  poor 
Babbo,  alone  at  home,  but  yet  so  patient  and 
gentle  and  noble  in  all  he  said,  and' — here  she 
hesitated  and  stammered  and  blushed  and  added 
— 'he  was  so  grateful  for  everything  I  did  for 
him  —  spoke  to  me  so  sweetly  —  and  praised 
me  so  tenderly  yet  so  respectfully  —  I  could  — 
I  could  gladly  take  care  —  take  care  of  him  — 
all  my  life  —  I  mean  —  I  mean  if  he  were  sick.' 

"As  she  spoke  the  last  words,  she  blushed 
deeply  and  tears  twinkled  in  her  eyes,  yet  her 
face  beamed  with  tenderness.  The  sight  put  me 
on  a  rack  of  torture.  When  I  thought  how  her 
attentions  had  met  with  gratitude  and  praise, 
with  respectful  kindness,  and  perhaps  with  love 
itself;  while  my  at  least  equal  devotion  had  re- 
sulted in  my  shameful  fight  with  the  dog,  and  my 
unspeakable  disgrace  before  his  eyes,  and  probably 
in  his  regarding  me  with  repulsion  and  contempt; 
—  the  bitterness  of  my  reflections,  and  the  sting- 
ing sense  of  my  wrongs  was  too  much  for  my 
courage  and  too  much  for  my  strength. 

"I  had  no  tears,  nor  did  I  sob,  nor  moan.  I 
closed  my  eyes.  There  came  a  strange  sensation 
over  my  heart.  I  thought  I  was  going  to  die.  I 
opened  my  eyes,  all  was  black.  The  next  I  knew, 

237 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

Sister  was  stooping  over  me,  bathing  my  temples 
with  cold  water  and  holding  a  little  bottle  at  my 
nose. 

"As  soon  as  I  came  to  myself,  my  breast  heaved 
with  sobs  which  I  could  not  restrain;  and  a  tor- 
rent of  tears  poured  over  my  face.  Maria,  how- 
ever, very  naturally  misunderstood  the  real  cause 
of  my  emotion.  Judging  from  her  own  feelings 
(of  which  her  own  swimming  eyes  were  sufficient 
evidence),  she  imagined  that  mine  were  tears  of 
pity  for  the  young  man,  mingled  with  sympathy 
in  her  tenderness.  Laying  away  her  cold  towels 
and  smelling  bottle,  she  knelt  at  the  bedside, 
covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  and  laid  her 
head  gently  on  my  bosom.  We  remained  thus 
some  minutes  without  speaking.  Meantime  the 
tumult  of  my  emotions  subsided,  she  arose, 
pressed  her  lips  to  my  forehead  in  silence  and 
descended  to  prepare  and  bring  my  supper;  and 
this  subject  was  not  again  spoken  of  between  us. 

"  The  second  day  after,  I  sat  some  hours  in  the 
easy-chair,  during  which  the  Medico  called,  con- 
versed of  my  health  and  treatment  only,  and  said 
his  goodbye.  In  two  days  more  I  walked  about 
the  room,  but  did  not  go  below  till  the  full  week 
was  over.  Meanwhile  Maria,  relieved  of  constant 
attendance  on  me,  spent  some  hours  each  day 
with  the  sheep  in  company  with  the  dog. 
238 


OF  MARTIGNY 

"  Every  day  I  heard  the  char  arrive  and  knew 
that  the  young  man  was  spending  an  hour  or  two 
in  the  pastures.  His  arrival  was  commonly  some 
hours  after  Maria  had  gone  to  the  flocks.  One 
day,  however,  coming  much  earlier  than  usual,  he 
found  her  still  in  the  house.  I  heard  him  enter, 
and  heard  a  small  part  of  the  conversation,  while 
she  was  finishing  her  housewifery  and  preparing 
to  go  with  him  to  the  grazing  grounds.  I  only 
caught  distinctly  the  words :  '  If  it  is  rit  yes,  I 
think  it  will  kill  me.' 

"You  will  imagine  that  I  had  built  up  in  my 
fancy  every  day  what  Luigi  and  Maria  might  be 
saying  and  doing  in  the  pastures.  Still,  unless  it 
were  by  that  unusual  light  in  her  eyes,  and  a 
manner  and  movement  rather  more  gay  and 
merry  than  her  common  soft  and  sober  way,  she 
had  not  shown  by  word  or  look,  since  she  knelt  at 
the  bedside  and  wept  tears  of  pity  on  my  bosom, 
any  symptoms,  so  far  as  I  could  discover,  of  a 
tenderer  interest,  or  of  more  intimate  relations 
with  him  than  before. 

"To  be  sure,  I  observed  that  she  called  him 
'  Luigi,'  and  now  and  then  merely  '  Lu.'  But  I 
remembered  that  she  had  done  so  ever  since  I 
awoke  in  the  little  bed.  Perhaps  it  was  only  her 
way,  for  she  was  always  sparing  of  her  breath. 
Or  she  might  have  caught  it  from  the  Medico. 

239 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

"  Now  I  was  sure  I  heard  something  important. 
For  what  else  could  it  be,  but  that  he  was  pressing 
a  suit  of  .  .  .  ?  I  did  not,  I  could  not  pronounce 
the  word. 

"  My  heart  fluttered.  My  head  swam.  A 
faintness  came  over  me.  I  laid  my  head  back 
upon  the  pillows  of  the  easy-chair  and  closed 
my  aching  eyes  —  not  for  sleep,  but  for  bitter 
reflection. 

"  I  recalled  my  fate  in  the  dream.  Was  not 
that  dream  perhaps  prophetic  intelligence  brought 
to  me  by  my  guardian  angel  from  heaven  ?  —  or 
perhaps  from  my  dear  Mother  in  Paradise?  — 
perhaps  to  warn  me  of  some  danger  —  or  to  com- 
fort me  in  coming  disappointment.  Was  I  not 
surely  entering  now  into  the  darkening  atmos- 
phere of  that  predicted  eclipse  of  my  hopes? 
I  must  try  and  learn  the  mysterious  meaning  of 
those  ominous  words.  All  I  can  see  by  them  now 
is  that  perhaps  —  ah,  that  dreadful  perhaps,  always 
clinging  to  me  !  —  perhaps  there  is  still  a  future 
for  me  —  yes,  if  all  fails  now  in  that  quarter,  a 
future  of  love  and  happiness  for  me,  for  me,  for 
me  —  and  it  seemed  like  a  tiny  star  of  hope  just 
twinkling  below  dark  storm-clouds  on  the  distant 
horizon. 

"  Presently  the  murmur  of  their  subdued  con- 
versation became  mingled  with  the  clattering 
240 


OF  MAR  TIG  NY 

preparations  for  their  departure.  Maria  opened 
the  door  at  the  foot  of  the  staircase,  and  in  a 
sprightly  tone  called  to  me,  as  usual: 

'Af'arnie,  maintenant  je  m'  en  vats'  [I  'm  going 
now,  dear]. 

'Adieu,  M'avu'e,  jusqu  au  revoir'  [goodbye,  dear, 
till  you  come  back],  I  replied,  as  usual. 

"  But  when  the  door  shut  with  a  bang,  it  went 
through  me  like  the  report  of  a  cannon  aimed  at 
my  head.  The  outer  door  closed  with  a  deeper 
thud,  and  then  all  was  still,  except,  except  an 
echo  in  my  soul,  fading  away  like  the  roar  of  a 
fallen  avalanche. 

"  I  rose  and  went  to  the  window.  Hot  tears 
were  running  down  my  cheeks.  I  saw  the  two 
just  below  me.  Maria  was  stepping  slowly  along 
in  the  footpath  that  led  to  the  pastures  with  her 
eyes  bent  on  the  ground.  By  her  side  a  tall 
figure,  also  with  eyes  bent  on  the  ground,  was 
moving  with  a  fatigued  yet  manly  gait. 

"  The  morning  was  fresh.  The  sky  was  cloud- 
less. The  frosted  dew  was  hardly  gone.  A 
gentle  breeze  kept  the  fir-twigs  slowly  dancing 
to  the  solemn  music  of  the  tree-tops.  The  scene 
was  so  charming,  and  so  like,  that  I  could  not 
help  beginning  to  hum  Petrarch's  canzone : 

'  Alia  dolce  ombra  delle  belle  frondi. 23 

[In  luscious  shade  of  witching  green,  etc.]. 

241 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

"  But  the  scene  had  also  a  livelier  interest  for 
me.  They  seemed  to  be  talking  of  something 
which  stirred  their  deepest  feelings.  Often  she 
turned  her  face  in  a  tender  way  up  toward  his, 
and  he  looked  earnestly  down  into  hers.  They 
were  becoming  every  moment  more  and  still 
more  indistinct  in  the  distance.  They  came  at 
length  to  a  place  where  the  footpath  branches 
into  two  —  one  bearing  to  the  left  up  the  side  of 
the  mountain  to  the  spot  where  the  goats  were 
driven  —  the  other  turning  a  little  to  the  right, 
and  gently  ascending  into  that  small  smooth 
valley  which  we  called  the  '  Upper  Meadow.' 

"  At  this  point  they  paused.  I  could  trace  the 
outline  of  their  figures  completely;  but  the  lower 
branches  of  a  fir  tree  veiled  my  vision  with  a 
kind  of  irregular  lattice-work,  and  the  shadows, 
kept  in  motion  by  the  breeze,  threw  a  degree  of 
dreaminess  and  uncertainty  over  the  view. 

u  I  saw  him  return  to  her  the  small  pail  which 
he  had  been  carrying  in  his  left  hand,  while  with 
his  right  he  had  been  supporting,  by  a  walking 
stick,  his  rather  infirm  steps.  As  she  took  the 
pail,  she  looked  up  into  his  face,  he  changed  the 
stick  quickly  into  his  left  hand,  and  raising  his 
right  arm,  was  bending  towards  her,  when  my 
eyes  filled  with  a  new  flood  of  tears.  The  fir- 
boughs,  also,  between  us,  were  at  that  moment 
242 


OF  MARTI GNY 

more  agitated  by  the  breeze.  Yet  I  seemed  to 
see  —  no,  I  was  not  sure  —  but  thought  I  saw  — 
at  least,  I  could  not  doubt  —  that  he  elapsed  her 
waist  —  that  she  did  not  resist  —  did  not  even 
seem  either  vexed  or  surprised  —  in  short,  that, 
with  a  warm  embrace,  he  kissed  her  upturned  and 
willing  face.  Then  parting,  they  disappeared. 

"  I  turned  from  the  window  and  staggered  back 
to  the  easy-chair.  My  heart  thumped.  My  tears 
were  gone.  My  cheeks  burned.  I  had  broken 
the  orders  of  the  Medico — and  how  I  was  pun- 
ished !  '  Was  it  then,'  I  said  to  myself,  '  an  occur- 
rence that  happened  daily  ?  Was  it  to  save  me 
from  such  a  sight,  that  I  had  been  forbidden  to 
look  out  of  the  window  ?  Did  the  Medico  then, 
know  about  it  ?  Did  he  probably  approve  ?  — 
Was  he  helping  it  on?  —  No  doubt,  no  doubt, 
he  was. 

'  Alas,  alas  !  Even  he  then  had  turned  against 
me  !  —  or  never  cared  for  me  !  —  though  he  talked 
so  kindly  to  me  —  and  was  so  gentle  to  me  —  and 
looked  so  great  and  good  —  and  I  thought  he  was 
so  noble  —  and  he  was  so  handsome  and  so  grand 
—  oh,  I  could  have  learned  to  worship  him  —  but 
now  —  now  he  has  spurned  me  from  his  foot  —  he 
has  seen  — I  don't  know  what  he  has  seen  —  and 
despises  me  like  a  toad  in  the  road  —  what  sort 
men  are  !  —  it  must  be  that  they  are  all  so  —  so 
243 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

exacting  of  us,  poor  things  —  and  ready  to 
trample  us  under  their  feet !  —  even  the  great, 
good  Medico  is  —  is  —  is  one  of  them  —  but  I 
would  n't  have  thought  it  —  I  could  n't  have 
imagined  it  —  nor  believed  it. 

'No,  no,  I  cannot  believe  it  —  nor  will  I  be- 
lieve it  of  the  good  Medico  —  dear  man !  I 
have  been  slandering  him  in  my  heart.  I  re- 
pent. I  beg  his  pardon  on  my  knees.  I  will 
not  —  I  do  not  distrust  him.  He  has  been 
so  kind  to  me — and  he  is  so  lovely  to  Luigi 

—  I  almost  love  him. 

'  But    Luigi  loves    Marie  —  and  —  and  —  I  —  I 

—  love  .  .  .  Marie  —  oh,  oh  ! '  " 


NICODEMO    OMBROSINI. 


244 


OF  MARTIGNY 


XXII. 

In  peace  remain  :  I  go  :   for  now 
To-day,  to  travel  on  with  me, 
Who  guides  my  fate  doth  not  allow, 
But  sternly  doth  forbid  to  thee  : 

Or  calmly  stay, 

Or  take,  some  day, 

A  happier  way.24 

TASSO,  GERUS.  xvi,  56. 

^1  REMEMBER,"  .said  my  companion,  after 
1  a  momentary  pause,  "  I  remember  noth- 
ing more,  after  hearing  the  rattle  of  the  char 
rolling  away.  The  fact  was,  that,  my  nerves 
having  been  overwrought  by  such  powerful  ex- 
citement, I  almost  immediately  sank  into  a  pro- 
found slumber,  which  kindly  extinguished  my 
consciousness  of  pain  and  annihilated  for  me 
the  dragging  hours.  I  had  barely  awakened, 
when  the  cuckoo  below  sung  out  four  o'clock. 

"A  glance  through  the  window  showed  me 
Maria  coming  down  from  the  Upper  Meadow, 
followed  by  the  sheep,  and  behind  all  Villoso 
bringing  up  the  rear  with  a  slow  and  careful 

245 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

fidelity,  as  if  he   were  at  his  lifelong  work  in 
his  own  meadows. 

"  The  far-declined  sun  was  still  shining  bright 
and  warm  on  the  hillside,  and  Maria,  leaving  her 
flock  to  graze  there  a  little  longer,  in  care  of  the 
dog,  came  to  the  house  and  ascended  directly  to 
look  after  me. 

"I  was  leaning  back  on  the  pillows  of  my 
chair,  as  feeble  as  a  baby,  and  the  tears  which 
I  did  my  best  to  keep  back,  but  could  not, 
were  filling  my  eyes.  Bending  tenderly  over 
me  with  her  happy  face,  as  fresh  as  a  morning 
rose,  she  said,  with  a  kiss  : 

— '  Pauvre  enfant!  [poor  chick]  —  you  are  so 
lonely. —  It  is  hard  to  be  penned  up  here,  like 
a  sick  sheep. —  The  day  has  been  so  lovely. —  And 
you  must  n't  even  look  at  the  clouds.' 

"  Then,  stroking  my  hot  brow  with  her  cool, 
soft  hand,  she  said  in  the  tenderest  tones : 

— '  Mais  n'  en  f'  inquiete  point,  mia  dolcissima  [but 
don't  worry  over  it,  sweetest],  you'll  soon  be  well 
and  as  free  as  a  lark  again. —  You  are  a  little 
better  to-day,  are  n't  you  ? ' 

"  I  was  silent,  and  she  went  on  stroking  my 
hot  temples  with  her  cool  hands,  and  saying 
in  sweet,  bright  tones  : 

— 'M'amt'e,  I've   had   the   happiest   day  of  my 
life.     I  wish  you  could  have  been  with  us.' 
246 


OF  MARTIGNY 

"  The  word  '  tis '  —  ah,  what  was  that  ?  —  shall  I 
say  it  made  my  ears  tingle  again?  —  but  I  was 
still,  and  she  went  on : 

— '  Lu  told  me  some  news  —  some  things,  I 
mean,  I  did  not  know  before.' 

"This  startled  me,  indeed.  I  was  sure,  now, 
that  some  confessions  were  coming.  But  I  tried 
to  be  calm  and  to  appear  unconcerned,  and  I  said, 
as  quietly  as  I  could  : 

— '  Did  he  ?  —  what  were  they,  M'amze  ? ' 

— 'Oh,'  she  replied,  'so  many  things  about 
caring  for  lambs  and  kids  and  about  wine-and- 
oil  making  and  silkworms  and  straw-braiding 
and  artificial  flowers  and  the  musical  boxes. 

'  But,  oh,  I  must  tell  you,  first  of  all,  that  he 
brought  Villoso  to  me  —  we  must  n't  call  him  Vil- 
loso  any  longer — his  real  name  is  Leoncello,  but  for 
short,  he  calls  him  Leo — he  brought  the  dog  up  to 
me  and  told  him,  with  many  signs,  that  I  was  his 
mistress  now ;  and  the  great,  shaggy  fellow  looked 
kindly  up  into  my  face  and  wagged  his  bushy  tail 
and  seemed  to  understand  it  all. 

'  Then,  also  with  Lus  help,  I  put  him  through 
all  his  tricks,  about  sheep  and  wild  game  and  for 
fun.  He  has  got  twenty  of  them.  I'll  show  them 
to  you  under  the  window  to-morrow;  and  then  — 

— '  But,'  I  interrupted,  '  did  n't  he  say  anything 
about  himself  ? ' 

247 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

— 'Oh,  yes,  M'amie,  he  told  me  everything.' 

— '  What  did  he  say  ? ' 

— 'You  know  what  Babbo  told  us.  Besides 
that,  he  has  a  sister,  Lappa,  two  years  younger 
than  he,  who — ' 

— 'Oh,  I've  seen  her,'  I  interrupted, '  I'm  certain 
of  it.  For  it  must  be  it  was  she  with  the  great 
lady  at  Aosta.  She  called  her  Lappa.  I  never 
heard  that  name  before  nor  since.  It  must  be 
she.  Besides,  his  nose  and  beautiful  mouth 
and  that  dimpled  chin  are  so  much  like  hers. 
It  must  be,  it  must  be,  it  was  she.' 

— 'I  think  so,  too,  —  yes,  it's  almost  certain,' 
said  Maria,  'for  he  told  me  she  had  been  for 
several  years  maid  to  the  Marchesa  di  Castiglione.' 

— '  Where  is  she  now  ? ' 

— '  She  lives  in  Roma  in  the  winter.' 

— '  Does  he  ever  see  her  there  ? ' 

— '  Yes,  two  years  ago  he  visited  her  there  in 
'  company  with  his  uncle,  the  Medico.' 

— '  Luigi  went  to  Roma  ? ' 

— 'Yes,  indeed!  and  it  was  then  that  he  learned, 
oh,  worlds  of  wonderful  things,  about  the  pictures 
and  statues  there,  and  he  longed  almost  his  life 
away  to  be  himself  an  artist.  But  it  was  no 
use  repining.  He  must  be  content,  if  God  would 
make  him  a  good  vine-dresser  and  a  good  man  — 
and  a  good  son  —  and  he  hoped  some  day  —  a 
248 


OF  MARTIGNY 

good  father  and  able,  if  he  had  such  a  son,  to 
send  him  to  Roma  to  be  an  artist.' 

— '  Is  he  coming  to-morrow  ? '   I  asked. 

— '  No,  alas !  no.  He  's  not  coming  again. 
He  has  gone  for  good,'  she  replied. 

— '  For  good  ! '  I  exclaimed.  '  Will  he  never 
come  —  to  see — to  see  Leo — nor — nor  any  of  us?' 

— '  He  lives  so  very  far  away,'  said  Maria  sadly. 

— '  Did  he  say  he  should  never  come  back  ? ' 
I  enquired  eagerly. 

— '  No,  he  did  n't  say  it  exactly  so.' 

— '  How  did  he  say  it  ? 

— '  He  said  "  addio "  to  Leo,  patted  and  em- 
braced the  dog  tenderly,  and  when  the  animal 
returned  his  affection  with  the  utmost  joy,  his 
voice  trembled,  and  I  saw  a  tear  on  his  cheek, 
and — '  here  she  stopped  abruptly,  turned  and 
went  quickly  to  the  window  as  if  to  look  after 
the  sheep. 

— '  And  what  ? '  I  said  softly,  but  she  made  me 
no  reply.  I  rose  and  went  to  the  window,  and 
laying  my  hand  gently  on  her  choulder,  said 
again  tenderly, 

— '  And  what,  M  'amie  ? ' 

Without  turning  her  gaze  from  the  grazing 
sheep,  she  stammered,  '  and  —  and  then  —  he 
turned  —  and  very  quickly  —  he  —  he  went  away.' 

"  I  wished  so  much  to  ask  another  question ;  for 
249 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

I  was  sure  some  things  —  just  the  things  I  wanted 
to  know  —  had  been  left  untold.  But  she  imme- 
diately put  her  hands  over  her  face  and  sobbed 
aloud,  violently. 

"It  was  now  my  turn  to  console  both  Maria 
and  myself.  I  thought  I  should  burst  into  sobs 
too,  but  steeled  myself  to  say: 

— '  I  think  he  '11  come  back,  M  'amie.  He  '11 
want  to  see  Leo ;  and  I  fancy  he  '11  want  to  see 
you  much  more,  dolcissima. 

"  She  blushed  crimson  and  said  between  her 
sobs: 

— 'Oh,  he  —  he  cannot  —  if  —  if  he  —  if  he  did 
—  want  to  —  ever  —  ever  so  much.  They  won't  — 
won't  let  a  conscript  —  cross  the  line  —  for  —  for 
seven  years.  We  —  we  shall  never  —  never  see 
him  —  here  again.' 

"Then  she  went  on  sobbing  with  still  greater 
violence.  I  wondered  greatly  how  she  could 
have  been  so  gay  only  a  few  minutes  before  and 
now  so  sad.  I  was  sure  that  something  more  and 
more  important  must  have  passed  between  them 
than  she  had  told  me  of.  I  knew  that  what  she 
had  said  about  the  conscription  was  true,  and  I 
could  think  of  nothing  to  say  in  alleviation  of  it. 
In  a  flush  of  instinctive  sympathy,  I  threw  my 
arm  around  her,  and  we  stood  looking  out  of  the 
window  in  silence,  locked  to  each  other,  with 
250 


OF  MARTIGNY 

our  now  equally  moist  and  heated  cheeks  leaned 
together. 

"  While  we  stood  thus  silently,  almost  vacantly 
gazing"  on  the  grazing  sheep  with  thoughts  run- 
ning far  away  from  ourselves  but  probably  not 
over  fields  very  distant  from  one  another,  there 
occurred  certain  rather  uncommon  evolutions  in 
the  flock  in  which  Leo  was  the  principal  hero  and 
found  a  chance  which  he  did  not  neglect  to  dis- 
play his  quality.  A  sturdy  young  ram,  which  had 
been  for  a  considerable  time  slowly  working  him- 
self apart  from  the  flock,  closely  watched,  how- 
ever, by  Leo,  suddenly  started  on  a  gentle  trot  in 
a  direction  further  up  the  mountain. 

"  Leo,  who  was  crouched  with  his  nose  between 
his  forepaws  ready  for  a  spring  as  the  ram  passed 
him,  leaped  forward  with  his  whole  force  to  turn 
him  back.  But  whether  by  chance  or  by  the  in- 
stinctive deviltry  of  the  ram,  the  two  came  into  a 
powerful  collision  in  such  a  way  as  to  send  the 
dog  whirling  in  a  sommersault,  while  the  ram 
started  off  in  a  brisk  gallop  around  the  edge  of 
the  flock,  but  at  some  distance  away. 

"  The  dog  in  a  twinkling  was  on  his  legs  again; 
but  the  ram  had  already  put  the  flock  between 
himself  and  the  dog.  The  latter  in  a  flash  took 
in  the  situation  and  started  directly  for  the  flock. 
With  prodigious  leaps,  as  straight  and  swift  as  a 

251 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

bird  would  fly,  he  galloped  across  their  backs, 
which  he  hardly  seemed  to  touch,  and  in  less 
time  than  it  takes  to  tell  it,  was  face  to  face  with 
the  ram;  who,  thinking  he  had  outwitted  his 
keeper,  was  beginning  daintily  to  crop  the  fresh 
untrod  grass  about  him. 

"As  soon  as  his  ramship  perceived  the  dog 
again  en  couchant  before  him,  he  stamped  furiously 
and  shook  his  great,  horned  head,  and  started  at 
a  run  with  bent  neck  directly  for  the  dog,  with 
the  obviously  wicked  intent  to  send  him  again 
flying  in  the  air.  But  this  time  the  canine  keeper 
was  equal  to  the  occasion.  Awaiting  the  terrific 
lunge,  the  dog  sprang  suddenly  aside  and  the 
ram  passed  with  such  force  that,  meeting  no 
opposition,  he  fell  on  his  knees  and  thrust  one  of 
his  horns  into  the  sod.  The  next  instant  the  dog 
was  at  his  side,  and  at  every  attempt  to  rise  he 
was  pushed  and  held  down  by  the  strength  and 
weight  of  the  dog,  until  being  quite  exhausted  he 
ceased  to  struggle,  when  he  was  allowed  to  rise 
and  trot  quietly  back  to  the  flock. 

"  Evening  was  now  closing  in,  and  Maria  went 
to  applaud  and  cheer  the  dog,  and  to  dispose  the 
sheep  for  the  night." 


252 


XXIII. 

As  in  form  of  butterfly, 
At  my  latest  breath,  flew  I 
To  the  spots  I  love  so  well, 
On  the  hill  and  on  the  dell, 
Paradising  through  the  air, 
I  surprised  a  tender  pair. 
From  the  pretty  maiden's  crown 
High  ensconced  I  looked  down. 

All  that  Death  had  robbed  from  me 
I  content  in  picture  see. 
Clasps  she,  with  a  silent  smile, — 
And  his  mouth  enjoys  the  while, — 
What  the  fates  in  goodness  give, 
All  that  mortal  can  and  live, 
Flitting  from  the  bosom's  swell 
To  the  mouth  and  hands  as  well. 

Now  I  start,  and  flitting  by, 
Lo,  she  sees  the  butterfly. 
Trembling  for  her  friend's  desire, 
And  the  swiftly  rising  fire, 
Up  she  springs,  I  fly  afar. 
'  Dearest,  come  and  catch  him  there ! 
Come,  let's  have  his  dappled  wing  — 
Yes,  I  want  the  pretty  thing.'25 

GOETHE. 

ff'T^EN  days  later  I  felt  sufficiently  recovered 
1       to  undertake,  at  Maria's  request,  the  fam- 
ily errands  at  Martigny"  so  my  companion  pro- 
253 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

ceeded.  "The  weather  was  fine  and  the  air  brac- 
ing, but  my  strength  proved  to  be  less  firm  than 
I  supposed  and  really  unequal  to  the  journey. 

"  When  I  came  to  the  place  where  we  met  to- 
day, I  was  so  weary  and  exhausted  that  I  was 
glad  to  turn  aside  and  sit  down  on  that  same 
mossy  bank,  and  became  busy  with  my  knitting, 
but  much  more  so  with  my  thoughts.  At  last,  as 
I  was  on  the  point  of  rising  to  go  forward  again, 
I  saw,  a  little  way  down  the  road,  a  man  walking 
briskly  with  a  mule  before  him. 

"  He  carried  an  alpenstock  in  one  hand  and  in 
the  other  a  long  riding- whip  with  which,  at  short 
intervals, he  stimulated  the  gait  of  the  mule;  and 
when  not  using  it  upon  the  beast,  he  lopped  off 
the  tops  of  the  taller  weeds  and  wild-flowers  at  the 
side  of  the  path.  Not  being  in  the  mood  to  en- 
counter a  stranger,  and  seeing  that  he  seemed  to 
be  absorbed  in  his  own  thoughts,  and  would  proba- 
bly go  quickly  by  without  noticing  me,  I  continued 
quietly  knitting  till  he  should  pass. 

"As  he  drew  nearer,  however,  the  figure  seemed 
more  and  more  familiar.  What  a  few  moments 
before  I  should  have  supposed  impossible — I  saw 
Luigi  Donati  going  toward  our  home  ! 

"  Was  this,  then,  known  there  ?  At  least,  was 
Maria  probably  expecting  him  ?  And  —  oh,  could 
I  believe  it  —  believe  it  of  her  —  that  —  that  I  was. 

254 


OF  MARTIGNY 

thus  innocently  sent  to  Martigny  —  to  be  out  of 
the  way  during  his  visit  ? 

"  I  desired  now  above  all  things  that  he  should 
discover  and  accost  me.  I  was  ready  to  rush  for- 
ward and  accost  him.  But  the  sentiment  of  pro- 
priety restrained  me,  and  perhaps  more  than  all 
else,  some  confusion  at  the  remembrance  of  the 
scene  in  which  he  last  saw  me. 

"  He  was  already  in  front  of  me.  In  another 
moment  he  would  pass  around  the  corner  of  the 
rock,  and  I  should  not  see  him  —  never  see  him, 
again.  A  thought  then  flashed  into  my  mind. 
Had  n't  Maria  said  to  me,  greatly  to  my  sur- 
prise at  the  time,  and,  as  I  then  thought,  with  a 
sort  of  tremor  in  her  voice  and  a  strange  accent, 
'  Perhaps  you  will  not  see  him  again '  ?  Oh,  is 
this  the  meaning  of  it  ? 

"  In  an  instant  my  timidity  vanished,  my  hesi- 
tation was  gone,  my  resolve  was  taken.  I  ran 
gaily  out  from  the  nook  just  as  he  was  disappear- 
ing beyond  the  rock. 

— '  Come  sta  ?  —  come  sta  Ella  '  [How  do  you  do], 
I  cried. 

"  Glancing  back  over  his  shoulder,  he  saw  me 
running  after  him,  and  calling  to  the  mule  to 
stop,  in  another  instant  he  was  approaching  me 
with  uplifted  hands,  exclaiming  : 


255 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

— '  Grazie  a  Dio  !  —  tante  grazie  !  —  che  c1  e  una 
tanta  Providenza! '  [thank  God,  what  a  Providence]. 

"I  supposed  he  would  mistake  me  for  Maria. 
I  was  willing  that  he  should.  I  now  felt  sure 
that  he  had  ;  and  it  was  not  in  my  plan  to  un- 
deceive him.  '  How  could  I  do  such  a  thing  ? 
Was  this  a  mark  of  my  love  for  him  ? '  you  will 
ask.  'Was  I  not  ashamed  of  myself?  —  ashamed 
of  the  thought  of  it  ? '  To  be  sure,  I  was  not 
quite  happy  on  that  score,  nor  did  my  conscience 
leave  me  wholly  undisturbed.  But  then  I  said  to 
myself  :  '  It  was  a  desperate  case.  I  should  be 
unspeakably  wretched  to  have  it  otherwise.  Be- 
sides, what  had  I  done  to  bring  it  about,  if 
he  were  deceived.  And  —  and  —  at  all  events, 
though  it  cut  me  to  the  heart  to  think  so,  was 
I  not,  probably,  at  this  very  moment,  "more 
sinned  against  than  sinning "  ? 

'  Perhaps  after  all ' —  for  I  was  ready  to  believe, 
or  at  least  to  accept  the  impossible,  so  that  it 
favored  my  desires  —  '  perhaps  he  was  not  de- 
ceived. He  had  spoken  no  name,  nor  employed 
any  language  which  would  not  apply  equally  to 
me  as  to  my  sister. 

'  However    it   should   be,   it  was,   as   he    said, 

a   Providence.     Iddio  had  planned  and   brought 

it   about.      He    felt    it    to    be    so.  .  It    was    so. 

Perhaps   my  agonized   prayers  to   the  Madonna 

256 


OF  MARTIGNY 

were  being  answered.  Perhaps  my  guardian 
angel  had  been  permitted  to  bring  me  that 
dream  as  a  prophecy  of  my  coming  felicity. 
Perhaps  he  had  procured  this  whole  event  for 
me  and  was  now  reversing  my  hitherto  appar- 
ently shattered  fortunes.  If  so,  ought  I  to  do 
anything  to  thwart  his  aid  ? ' 

"  Still  I  could  not  deny  to  myself,  that  I  felt  at 
the  bottom  of  my  heart  an  obscure  sentiment  of 
guilt  and  degradation  in  being  so  exceedingly 
pleased  it  should  be  so, —  that  it  was  in  fact  so 
much  to  my  mind,  that  I  would  certainly  have 
brought  it  about  myself,  if  I  could.  This  senti- 
ment, lying  half  undefined  yet  immovable  in  my 
breast,  did  not  leave  me  wholly  serene. 

"  Yet  you  must  remember  that  I  was  put  sud- 
denly and  unexpectedly  with  the  man  whom  I 
adored, —  the  first  and  only  man  I  had  ever  been 
in  tender  relations  with,  slight  as  these  were. 
Every  fiber  of  my  body  quivered  with  delighted 
emotion.  My  reason  was  obfusticated.  My  soul 
was  darkened  by  sensuous  clouds.  I  did  not 
realize  this  then,  but  I  see  it  now,  and  I  often 
reflect  on  it  with  mortification. 

"  Under  a  mental  and  moral  atmosphere  so 
hazy,  my  conscience,  with  a  few  gradually  less- 
ening struggles,  fell  asleep.  My  perception  of 
truth,  honor,  and  right  was  blurred,  and  even 

25? 


I 
THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

my  real  love  for  Maria  —  shall  I  say  it?  —  dare  I 
say  it?  —  must  I  say  it? — was  in  eclipse. 

— '  This  is  so  fortunate  —  such  a  Providence  — 
such  blessed  luck,'  he  said  again,  as  he  took  my 
offered  hand;  and  then  turning  we  led -each  other 
(for  I  cannot  say  which  was  the  guide),  to  the 
mossy  bank  and  sat  down.  He  enquired  whether 
all  was  well  at  home  — '  the  father,  the  sister,  the 
flocks,  the  dog.' 

Then  he  asked,  with  a  new  sprightliness  in 
his  tone: 

— '  Whither  are  you  bound  ? ' 

— '  To  Martigny  on  family  errands.' 

— '  Who  tends  the  flocks  to  day  ? ' 

— '  Sister,'  I  replied,  not  without  a  slight 
twinge  in  my  conscience. 

— '  Ah,  ah  ! '  was  his  reply.  Then  looking  away 
down  the  road,  with  an  abstracted  air,  and  strik- 
ing the  alpenstock  into  the  soft  ground  several 
times  till  it  stood  alone,  he  went  on,  but  with 
much  hesitation: 

— '  I  have  changed  —  my  plan  —  a  little.  I  — 
I  ran  away  —  I  wanted  —  I  wanted  to  see  —  about 
—  to  see  —  you.' 

"As  he  began  speaking  with  his  face  turned 

away,  I  had  been  looking  at  him,  knitting  slowly 

the  while;  but  when  he  stammered  this  out  with 

so  much   difficulty  and   stopped,  and  I  saw  him 

258 


OF  MARTIGNY 

turning  his  great,  honest  eyes  round  to  look 
down  on  me,  I  could  n't  bear  it,  and  bent  my 
head  over  my  work,  as  if  attending  closely  to 
some  difficult  part  and  went  on  knitting  as 
swiftly  as  I  could.  But  I  dropped  stitches  con- 
tinually and  was  worried  and  confused,  and  my 
eyes  were  blinded  with  a  mist  and  my  heart 
rapped  so  loud  that  I  think  he  must  have  heard 
it.  At  all  events,  however,  when  I  did  n't  say 
anything  he  continued,  more  connectedly,  but 
the  words  came  very  slow  and  trembling : 

— '  I  don't  know  when  I  can  see  you  again.  I 
can't  come  here,  perhaps  for  seven  years  at  least 

—  perhaps  I  never  shall  — you  can  tell  best  about 
that  ? ' 

"  I  said  nothing,  but  I  thought  my  heart  would 
fly  out  of  my  mouth,  and  after  a  pause  —  a  dread- 
ful pause,  to  me  at  least  (I  can  only  guess  for 
him),  he  went  on  again: 

— '  I  should  n't  have  come  to-day  —  only  —  only 

—  to  —  to  find  out  —  to  —  that  is  —  to  see  you.' 

"  I  felt  most  keenly  in  my  heart  that,  in  fact, 
he  was  not  speaking  to  me.  But  I  could  n't,  I 
could  n't  tell  him  I  was  n't  Maria.  So  I  was  still 
silent.  But,  in  spite  of  all  I  could  do,  the  great 
tears  began  to  drop  upon  my  work.  Between  my 
joy  at  seeing  him  again  under  any  circumstances, 
and  the  hearing  of  his  dear  voice,  now  for  the 

259 


THE    TWIN   SISTERS 

first  time,  and  my  dread  at  the  thought  of  his 
going  away,  possibly  forever,  and  my  mortify- 
ing consciousness  of  the  dishonest  role  I  was 
allowing  myself  to  play  —  a  double  crime  —  de- 
ception toward  him  and  treachery  toward  my 
'sister — in  spite  of  all  I  could  do,  my  bosom  was 
heaving  spasmodically,  and  I  expected  every 
moment  to  burst  out  aloud  into  sobs  and  wail- 
ing. But  for  the  present,  I  so  far  mastered  my 
emotion  as  to  be  able  still  to  work  and  weep 
on  in  silence,  and  he  took  no  further  notice  of 
my  excitement,  than  to  go  on  with  increased 
tenderness  in  tone  and  manner  : 

— '  Grazie  a  Dio,  that  the  conscription  writ 
was  n't  served  on  me  before  I  left  home.  They 
have  indulged  me  to  the  utmost  —  or  rather  I 
have  taken  advantage  of  the  utmost  limit  of  the 
law.  For  the  gentle  law  of  Austria' — he  said 
this  with  a  mingled  tone  of  sadness,  irony,  and 
sarcasm,  such  as  I  should  not  have  supposed  could 
by  any  possibility  issue  from  between  his  gentle, 
beautiful  lips — 'the  gentle  law  of  Austria  allows 
to  the  candidate  a  choice  of  the  time  when  the 
military  service,  of  eighteen  years  in  all,  shall 
begin,  from  the  age  of  eighteen  to  twenty-three. 
I  have  deferred  the  commencement  till  now.  I 
was  twenty-three,  five  days  ago  —  a  week  after  I 
left  home.  Further  postponement  is  impossible. 

260 


OF  MARTIGNY 

'The  old  officer  at  Mantua  did  n't  dream  of 
my  being  away  longer  than  a  night  or  two,  nor 
did  I.  It  was  that  ill  fortune  —  or  good  fortune 
—  at  the  brook.  It  is  wholly  an  accident — a 
providence  — this  delay  —  this  being  free  till  now. 

'  But  every  step  toward  home  is  irreversible.  I 
shall  get  the  summons  the  moment  I  arrive.  No 
doubt  it  has  been  left  with  my  Padre  already.  It 
will  be  impossible  after  that  to  cross  the  border 
on  any  plea  —  till  my  term  is  over.' 

"  Without  daring  to  look  up,  I  said,  softly  : 

— 'Could  n't  you  —  could  n't  you  contrive  to 
stay  this  side  now?' 

— '  Of  course,  of  course,  of  course,  I  don't  forget 
that,'  he  said  slowly  and  with  an  emphasis  on 
every  syllable.  After  a  moment's  pause,  in  a 
lower  voice  and  with  a  tone  half  pathetic  and 
half  ironical,  which  I  did  not  securely  under- 
stand, he  added,  'and  then  —  and  then,  not  have 
to  leave  you  at  all  —  unless  —  unless  you  —  banish 
me — ' 

— ' Miserello  Esile!'  [wretched  exile]  I  inter- 
jected in  a  whisper  and  without  looking  up,  but 
trying  to  imitate  his  equivocal  expression. 

— '  It  almost  drives  me  mad,'  he  went  on  in  a 
more  serious  tone,  'to  think  of  going  back  into 
that  Austrian  trap.  Still,  there  is  another  side  — 
yes,  several  other  sides. 

261 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

1  In  the  first  place,  my  case  at  least  involves  a 
moral  question  which  is  the  same  everywhere  in 
this  world  —  yes,  and  in  the  other  world  as  well. 

'  I  will  not  say  anything  of  my  duty  to  the  Gov- 
ernment—  the  Austrian  Government.  I  might 
say  something  bitter  and  wicked.  Iddio  has  al- 
lowed it  "ef  definiens  statuta  tempera  et  terminos 
habitationis  nostrae."  28 

'  The  old  officer  is  a  good  man.  He  is  a  boy- 
hood friend  of  my  Padre.  May  I  tell  you,  too, 
he  was  once  in  love  with  my  mother ;  and  they 
would  have  been  married  if  the  military  law  had 
permitted  it  to  them  —  that  is  to  say,  to  their 
purses. 

'  But  he  being  then  only  Sotto  Tenente  [second 
lieutenant],  before  they  could  be  lawfully  mar- 
ried, a  dowry  of  60,000  Lire  must  be  settled  on 
the  wife.  Mother  had  but  5,000  Lire,  her  beau- 
tiful self,  her  ancient  lineage,  her  heirloom  silver, 
and  the  linen  which  her  own  hands  had  created. 
He  was  unable  to  make  up  one-tenth  of  the  de- 
ficit. The  prospect  of  marriage,  therefore,  was 
desperate,  and  was  abandoned  to  their  mutual 
distress. 

'  For  several  years  she  conceded  to  him  /  favori 

d'  un  amante  [a  lover's  favors] ;  but  to  Babbo  (who 

had  always  known  and  loved  her),  after  his  active 

service  was  over,  she  became  a  wife,  and  to  Lappa 

262 


OF  MARTIGNY 

and  me  a  mother  —  to  us  all  she  was  the  loveliest 
and  best,  till  Iddio  called  her  to  Paradiso. 

1  This  being  so,  it  seems  so  unmanly,  so  mean  — 
ought  I  not  to  be  ashamed  of  it?  —  to  give  him 
the  slip  in  this  way.  He  could  have  detained  me 
at  home.  Perhaps  in  strictness  of  official  duty, 
he  ought.  To  lose  me  now  might  cost  him 
at  the  hands  of  the  Government  very  serious 
trouble. 

'  At  all  events,  if  he  had  done  the  safest  thing 
(which  is  always  assumed  to  be  an  officer's  duty), 
instead  of  the  kindest,  I  should  n't  have  been 
here  and  never  should  have  seen  you.  This  I 
owe  to  his  clemency  —  to  his  love  for  my  mother 
and  —  to  his  trust  in  me.  Now  could  I  take 
advantage  of  his  confidence  and  betray  him  to 
the  Government?  Would  it  not  be  almost  the 
same  as  breaking  my  parola  ?  What  should  I  be 
worth  to  myself,  or  to  ...  to  ...  to  anyone  with 
my  truth  and  character  gone? 

'  But  the  fact  stands  that  I  am  at  this  moment 
an  active  member  of  the  Austrian  army;  and 
unless  I  return  at  the  earliest  practicable  moment 
and  enter  upon  my  duties  as  such,  with  a  tenable 
excuse  for  being  caught  unexpectedly  and  by  act 
of  God  outside  the  border,  I  am  constructively 
and  really  a  deserter,  and  exposed  to  the  disgrace 
and  penalties  attached. 

263 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

'  So  that  if  I  were  minded  to  sell  my  soul  for 
seeming  worldly  gain,  save  my  own  skin  at 
every  cost,  betray  and  sacrifice  my  own  and 
my  sainted  mother's  friend,  yet  the  risk  is  hard 
and  the  chance  is  slim. 

'  I  must  at  a  stroke  give  up  everything  there. 
I  should  he  an  outcast  in  the  wide  world.  All  at 
home  would  be  taken.  My  Padre  would  become 
at  once  a  beggar.  I  should  never  see  him  nor 
Lappa  again.  He  would  be  killed  outright,  and 
Lappa  would  break  her  heart  over  it.'  "  I  knew 
he  was  right,  still,  intent  on  my  work,  I  ven- 
tured to  say:  'Couldn  n't  you,  perhaps,  make 
a  home  beyond  the  line  not  so  very  far  away 
and  take  care  of  your  Padre  there,  while  he 
lives;  and  Lappa  could  come  and  visit  you  at 
least.' 

— '  I  might,'  he  replied,  '  drag  on  a  while  so, 
in  terror,  but  probably  not  for  long,  and  to  be 
discovered  at  any  moment.  No  hope  then.  A 
deserter  must  be  given  up  by  everybody  if 
found  within  the  border,  if  not,  I  should  be 
caught  some  night,  most  likely,  and  dragged 
over.  Then,  what  of  Padre  ?  —  what  of  Lappa  ? 

'As  for  me    (if   I  ought  to   speak  of  it),  the 

first  thing  would  be  a  hundred  lashes,  afterwards 

would  come  the  camp  drudgery  in  irons,  then, 

to  serve  out  the  whole  time  under  surveillance, 

264 


OF  MARTIGNY 

without  eligibility  to  promotion,  or  honors 
and  at  last,  worn  out  with  hardship  and  dis- 
heartened by  disgrace  to  —  to — ' 

— '  To  marry,  I  think,  the  girl  you  loved  and 
who  loved  you  still  all  the  same,'  I  interjected 
again,  still  without  looking  up,  but  intending  to 
give  a  little  cheer,  even  a  little  hopeful  chuckle 
in  my  tone. 

— '  She  would  be  married,  or  gone  to  America,' 
he  said  with  a  heart-broken  tone,  and  I  wanted 
to  clasp  him  to  my  bosom  and  say:  '  Never,  never, 
never  ! '  but  I  only  said: 

— '  You  are  far  from  well  now.  Is  your  strength 
equal  yet  to  the  hard  barrack-life  ? '  I  said  it 
with  difficulty,  for  a  lump  was  swelling  in  my 
throat,  and  I  kept  my  eyes  fast  on  my  work,  for  I 
dared  not  trust  myself  to  look  up,  and  in  spite  of 
all  I  could  do,  my  chin  trembled  and  I  felt  the 
tears  coming. 

— '  No,'  he  said,  in  a  calm,  yet  sad  and  solemn 
voice,  '  I  fear  I  could  not  endure  it.  I  used  to  be 
so  strong.  I  never  was  afraid  of  any  labor,  or 
exposure,  or  danger.  I  enjoyed  it  all  —  the 
excitement  of  it  —  the  power  to  do  it  —  the  re- 
wards of  it.  Now,  it  seems  so  strange,  my  heart 
is  as  weak  as  my  body.  I  have  become  a  little 
child  again.  My  strength  and  my  courage  have 
forsaken  me  together.' 

265 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

— '  You  must  n't  go,  you  must  n't  go,'  I  forced 
in  a  hoarse  tone  from  my  aching,  trembling 
breast.  '  That  kind,  old  officer,  your  Signor  uncle 
the  Medico,  yes,  the  Emperor,  somebody  must, 
will  — ' 

— 'Child,'  he  interrupted,  'you  little  know  how 
unyielding,  how  like  the  polished  steel  of  the 
cannons  themselves  are  the  rules  of  the  military 
conscription.  It  would  be  well  nigh  as  hopeful 
to  countermand  the  summons  of  the  Angel  of 
death,  as  to  attempt  to  escape  or  countervail 
in  one  single  instance  the  relentless  grasp  of 
that  iron  hand.' 

"  I  knew  it  was  even  so,  as  he  said,  but  I  knew, 
also,  that  what  he  most  needed  at  that  moment 
was  moral  support  and  comfort,  and  I  steeled 
myself  to  say: 

— '  There  's  nothing  like  trying,  and  you  know 
that  heaven  helps  them  that  help  themselves,  and 
perhaps  if  you  pray  —  and  I  will  pray  too  —  per- 
haps your  guardian  angel  will  somehow  —  some- 
how or  other  —  get  you  off.' 

— '  Sicuro,  sicuroj  he  cried,  impatiently  and 
sadly,  'and  I  've  done  that  —  all  but  the  pray- 
ing. I  guess  the  guardian  angel  don't  meddle 
much  in  such  matters.  If  he  did  I  '11  wager 
he'd  find  a  match  in  the  Austrian  Government, 
or  in  Lucifero  behind  it' — 
266 


OF  MARTIGNY 

— '  Oh  !  Oh  !  don't  say  that,'  I  whispered,  under 
my  breath,  and  he  went  on: 

— '  However,  Uncle  Gulielmo  has  already  written, 
with  the  strongest  endorsement  of  his  patron,  the 
Count,  laying  the  case,  with  every  argument, 
before  the  Government  — 

— l£ene,  meglio,  ottimamente'  [good,  better,  best], 
I  interrupted  in  glad  surprise,  but  he  went  on: 

— '  But  the  answer  is  doubtful  —  very  doubtful. 
He  only  petitioned  for  my  relief  from  barracks 
for  two  years.  This  as  the  best  policy,  for  he 
dared  not  ask  for  more,  lest  it  should  preclude  all 
hope.  We  shall  certainly  hear  from  it  in  a  day 
or  two  —  perhaps  to-morrow.  That  will  settle 
my  fate.  As  I  said  the  other  day,  if  it  is  n't  yes  it 
will  kill  me.' 

"  These  last  words  brought  a  load  of  in- 
telligence to  me  far  beyond  the  meaning  of 
the  syllables,  and  a  revelation  which  he  little 
dreamed  of.  They  were  the  very  same  he  had 
used  in  conversation  with  Maria,  and  which  I 
assumed  to  be  a  part  of  his  suit  to  her.  It  was 
now  plain  that  this  supposition  was  a  mistake. 
He  had  explained  them  now  unconsciously;  and 
in  how  different  a  way  !  Had  he  then  made  any 
such  advances  at  all  ?  Dare  I  think,  probably 
not?  It  was  possible — oh,  that  it  were  certain 
that  he  had  not ! 

267 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

"  It  was  not  certain,  but  I  felt  it  was  probable, 
very  probable,  and  my  conscience  was  much 
relieved  by  it.  A  heavy  weight  was  lifted  from 
my  heart.  A  strange,  vague  comfort  came  into 
my  soul,  such  as  I  had  not  felt  for  many  days. 
Yet  if  I  had  been  asked,  I  could  not  have  given 
any  sufficient  or  satisfactory  reason  for  it.  But 
the  sentiment  —  the  repose  and  content,  such  as 
it  was  —  was  there  all  the  same. 

"  He  had  ceased  speaking.  There  had  been  a 
few  seconds  of  silence,  save  the  soft  sighing  of 
the  fir  tree-tops  above  our  heads,  and  the  faint 
and  fainter  echoing  roar  of  one  of  the  Jungfraus 
unceasing  avalanches.  My  own  thoughts  were 
now  beginning  to  flow  smoothly,  I  know  not  of 
what.  I  think  I  was  partly  dazed  by  my  sudden 
discovery. 

"  At  all  events,  I  folded  up  my  work  and  laid  it 
in  my  lap  and  ventured  to  look  up  into  his  face. 
Our  eyes  met  for  the  first  time.  Although  I  had 
seen  him  and  done  for  him  so  much  —  and  far 
more  than  he  knew  of  and  had  undergone  all 
that  unexplained  misfortune  with  him  and  for 
him,  yet  I  had  never  looked  into  those  eyes 
before. 

"  Oh,  where  was  I  then  !  I  seemed  to  be  in  an 
ocean  of  tenderness.  I  seemed  to  be  swimming 
in  a  sea  of  love.  My  whole  being  seemed  to  be 
268 


OF  MARTIGNY 

sinking  down  and  melting  away  in  his.  I  was 
greatly  agitated  and  trembled  from  head  to  foot. 
He  took  my  unresisting  hand  gently  in  both  his 
own  and  said: 

— iM'amie' — he  had  caught  our  family  pet 
name,  a  part  of  our  dear,  sainted  mother's  own 
language,  it  sounded  so  queer  yet  delicious  in 
his  mouth  — '  M'amie,  if  I  would  go  to  America, 
would  you  go  with  me  ? ' 

"The  blow  had  come  —  come  at  last  so  sud- 
denly, though  not  wholly  unexpected,  and 
certainly  not  by  any  means  undesired.  Yet  un- 
fortunately, or  fortunately,  I  had  never  been  in 
a  more  unprepared  state  to  receive  it.  The 
restraint  which  I  had  been  so  long  using  on  my 
feelings  while  he  was  saying  so  much  which 
stirred  my  emotions  to  the  lowest  depths,  had 
quite  exhausted  my  but  half-restored  physical 
strength.  The  feebleness  of  my  nerves  and  of 
my  whole  frame  decided  the  issue  for  me. 

"  Perhaps  it  was  for  the  best.  Perhaps  it  saved 
me  from  deliberately  stealing  for  myself  my 
sister's  happiness.  For  I  longed  —  oh,  how  irre- 
pressibly  !  —  to  throw  myself  into  his  arms  and 
bid  him  do  with  me  as  he  pleased.  Yet  I  saw 
the  forbidding  wall  between  us.  I  knew,  I  was 
morally  certain,  that  this  proffer  was  not  mine  — 

that  it  had  not  been  made  to  me,  but  to 

269 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

I  dared  not  finish  the  thought.  But  in  a  flash, 
I  thought  of  a  hundred  consequences  —  of  the 
coming  desolation  of  my  sister's  heart  —  of  pov- 
erty, loneliness,  and  shame  in  an  unknown  land— 
of  the  ever  and  everywhere  pursuing  curse  of 
avenging  fate  in  a  thousand  forms.  The  strain 
between  such  opposing  forces  was  too  much  for 
me.  I  sank  speechless  and  unconscious  in  his 
arms." 


270 


OF  MARTIGNY 


XXIV. 

"  Under  a  tuft  of  shade,  that  on  a  green 
Stood  whispering  soft,  by  a  fresh  fountain-side 

They  sat  them  down 

PAR.  LOST,  iv,  325. 

((  \  X  7"  HEN  my  consciousness  returned,  I  found 
V  V  myself  safe  and  sound,  to  be  sure,  but 
in  the  funniest  plight  I  could  have  imagined.  I 
was  laid  upon  the  mossy  bank.  Luigi's  folded 
blanket,  taken  off  from  the  mule,  was  under  me, 
rolled  at  the  end  for  a  pillow. 

"  His  red  and  yellow  handkerchief,  which  had 
been  dipped  in  the  spring,  was  laid  across  my 
temples.  My  hands  were  crossed  upon  my  breast, 
as  if  laid  out  for  burial,  and  wrapped  and  tied 
close  in  the  corners  of  the  gray  shawl  which  I 
wore  upon  my  shoulders.  Lutgi,  without  hat  or 
coat,  was  kneeling  at  my  side.  He  was  fanning 
me  with  my  great  straw  hat.  His  own,  of  soft, 
whitish  wool,  was  on  my  head.  He  was  gazing 
into  my  face  with  a  pitiful  look  of  pain  and 
despair. 

271 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

"  I  felt  confined,  and  looking  down,  saw  my 
shoes  (for,  as  a  half -invalid,  I  had  on  shoes  and 
stockings  then)  —  I  saw  my  shoes  at  my  side 
and  my  feet  drawn  into  the  sleeves  of  his  coat, 
which  was  wrapped  around  the  bottom  of  my 
dress  and  closely  buttoned.  At  the  moment  I 
opened  my  eyes,  I  had  heard  his  desponding 
wail,  keeping  a  kind  of  measured  time  with 
the  fan: 

'  Ahi,  mia  carissima,  ritornami! '  [alas,  my  dear- 
est, return  to  me]  repeated  over  and  over  con- 
tinually. 

"The  dolorous  rhythm  of  these  words,  ring- 
ing in  my  ears  as  monotonous  and  solemn 
as  the  antiphon  in  the  obsequies  for  the  dead, 
at  the  very  moment  when  I  caught  the  first 
glimpse  of  my  ridiculous  plight,  was  too  much 
for  my  disordered  nerves,  and  brought  upon 
me  a  fit  of  hysteria. 

"  Notwithstanding  the  seriousness  of  the  oc- 
casion —  which,  in  truth,  I  realized  but  too 
deeply, —  and  my  heartfelt  gratitude  to  him  for 
his  kindness,  I  burst  into  irrepressible  laughter, 
to  the  greatest  discomfort  of  the  good  fellow, 
and  to  my  own  profound  mortification.  In 
fact,  my  shame  and  anger  at  myself,  over  my 
inability  to  control  my  nerves,  aggravated  my 
infirmity;  and  the  consciousness  of  my  apparent 
272 


OF  MARTIGNY 

yet  irrepressible  ingratitude  threw  me  again 
and  again  into  an  agony  of  tears,  which  (as 
he  understood  them  no  better  than  the  laugh- 
ter) were  not  less  distressing  to  him. 

"  Meantime,  in  the  intervals,  I  told  him  that  I 
was  neither  weeping  nor  laughing  about  him, — 
that  there  was  no  reason  for  either,  except  the 
weakness  of  my  nerves,  and  that  I  thanked  him 
from  my  heart  for  all  his  care. 

"  Then  another  fit  of  laughter  would  take 
me,  and  he  could  not  believe  otherwise  than 
that  in  all  my  protestations  to  the  contrary,  I 
was  really  and  truly  making  fun  of  him.  He 
bore  it  bravely  through  several  of  these  alter- 
nations, though  his  lip  often  trembled  and  he 
looked  very  sad. 

"  At  last,  as  I  broke  out  still  again  (after  a  con- 
siderable period  of  calm,  and  against  every  effort 
I  could  make  to  prevent  it),  into  a  low  titter,  he 
threw  himself  on  his  knees  at  my  feet  —  my  feet 
still  deep  in  his  coat  sleeves, —  I  close  fettered  by 
the  buttoned  coat,  crowned  with  his  woolen  hat, 
decorated  with  the  red  and  yellow  handkerchief 
across  my  forehead,  my  hands  demurely  pinioned 
across  my  breast  by  the  corners  of  the  old  gray 
shawl, — 

'  Man  Dieu  ! '  thought  I,  '  what  a  tableau  !  —  the 
sylvan  grotto  —  the  dancing  shadows  —  the  mossy 

273 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

bank —  the  murmuring  waterfall  —  an  original, 
ornamented  mummy  —  a  noble  lover  at  her  feet, 
pushing  his  laborious  suit,  without  hat  or  coat ! ' 

"  I  thought  I  would  have  given  or  suffered  any- 
thing then  for  the  power  to  control  myself.  But 
though  I  was  in  the  deepest  distress  at  the  seri- 
ousness of  the  occasion  and  the  wicked  levity  of 
my  conduct,  yet  an  overpowering,  irresistible  sen- 
timent of  the  comic,  involuntary  and  meaningless 
though  it  was,  seemed  to  be  underlying  and  min- 
gled with  everything,  so  that  I  was  as  utterly 
and  helplessly  at  the  mercy  of  the  tempest  within 
me,  as  a  tiny  skiff  on  a  stormy  sea. 

'  O  M  'amte !  mia  cara  crudelissima ! '  [my  dear, 
my  cruel  darling]  he  sobbed,  'you  will  kill  me 
—  you  are  so  beautiful  —  I  think  the  holy  Ma- 
donna looked  like  you — ' 

— '  Not  like  me  just  now/  I  murmured ;  and 
doing  my  utmost  not  to  go  off  into  another  fit 
of  hysteria,  I  succeed  this  time,  and  he  went  on  : 

— '  O  M  'amie,  I  have  loved  you  —  I  have  adored 
you  —  you  will  kill  me  —  I  would  have  died  for 
you  —  I  shall  die  for  you  —  oh,  oh  ! '  all  in  the 
tones  of  a  wounded,  crushed,  broken-hearted 
soul. 

"  This  was  more  than  I  could  bear.  Like  the 
heroic  treatment  of  the  doctors,  it  cured  my  hys- 
teria, but  it  carried  me  into  madness.  At  that 

274 


OF  MARTIGNY 

moment  I  was  as  if  re-made  —  as  if  I  had  not 
existed  before.  I  had  no  longer  any  scruples, 
for  I  had  no  memories  of  the  past.  I  had  no 
fears,  for  I  existed  only  for  the  present  moment 
and  for  him.  I  had  no  other  sentiment  in  my 
soul,  but  my  boundless,  unreasoning  love  of 
him.  All  the  forces  and  activities  of  my  being 
were  as  if  concentrated  in  that  sentiment,  and 
this  was  uncontrollable. 

"  I  sprang  forward,  bound  hand  and  foot  as  I 
was.  I  would  have  thrown  my  arms  around 
his  neck,  but  they  were  tied.  Naturally,  I  went 
helpless  toward  the  rocky  ground.  But  his 
great  arms  caught  me,  before  I  fell,  and,  my 
head  resting  on  his  shoulder,  I  wept  there  con- 
vulsively in  sobs  of  real  passion  intensified  by 
shame,  like  the  gusts  of  a  summer  shower.  He 
remained  silent  and  motionless  till  my  external 
agitation  was  over.  Then  he  said,  softly: 

— 'Would  you  like  me  to  put  you  in  a  seat  on 
the  moss  ? ' 

"  I  had,  in  truth,  no  choice,  no  wish,  but,  as  to 
a  request  to  me  indifferent,  I  assented.  Then 
he  put  me  at  the  foot  of  the  tree  where  I  was 
sitting  when  you  passed  me  to-day.  There  is 
a  mossy  seat  there,  wide  enough  for  two,  with 
a  large  root  bending  round  at  the  back,  and  a 
flat  rock  projecting  like  a  footstool  in  front. 

275 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

"  Having  settled  me  there,  he  proceeded  to 
readjust  my  attire.  He  transferred  the  woolen 
hat  from  my  head  to  his  own.  Untying  the 
shawl  which  was  about  my  hands  he  arranged  it 
upon  my  shoulders  and  set  my  own  Livorno  on 
my  head.  Finally  he  removed  the  queer  leggins 
and  replaced  and  tied  my  shoes. 

"  Then,  having  wetted  the  red  and  yellow  ker- 
chief again  in  the  brook,  he  gently  bathed  my 
temples  and  wiped  the  tear-marks  from  my 
cheeks,  hung  the  damp  muslin  on  a  bush  to  dry, 
put  on  his  coat,  and  —  did  n't  do  ...  what  I  then 
.  .  .  most ...  I  will  only  say  .  .  .  expected. 

"I  closed  my  eyes  waiting  for  it — for  I  thought 
it  certain  to  come  when  he  had  arranged  me  to 
his  mind  —  but  as  it  did  not  come  —  not  even  on 
my  forehead  —  I  opened  them  again,  and  only  in 
time  to  see  him  vanishing  around  the  corner  of 
the  cliff  where  the  mule  had  passed  out  of  sight. 
A  succession  of  new  emotions,  each  different 
from  the  preceding,  chased  one  another  in  a 
rapid  train  through  my  bosom. 

"At  first,  I  felt  defrauded.  No  word,  no  kiss. 
This  was  so  different  from  what  I  had  read  of 
accepted  lovers,  that  I  should  not  have  believed 
it  possible.  For  surely  he  was  as  good  as  such. 
At  all  events,  I  had  not  rejected  his  love. 

"  But  presently  a  thought  suggested  itself, 
276 


OF  MARTIGNY 

which,  if  it  did  not  quite  wipe  out  my  sense  of 
wrong,  went  far  to  modify  and  mollify  it.  '  Might 
he  not  have  suspected  —  for  what  is  more  incredi- 
bly suspicious  than  true  love  ?  —  may  he  not  well 
have  suspected  that  my  rather  unusual  perform- 
ances were  mere  performances  over  his  intense 
but  honest  passion,  performances  of  girlish  pride 
or  fun;  and  that  I  had  best  be  punished  a  little 
for  it  at  the  outset  ?  —  the  rogue  !  —  but,  after  all, 
did  n't  I  deserve  it  ? ' 

"  This  feeling,  again,  soon  changed  into  a  sen- 
timent far  more  distressing.  Reflecting  now 
more  calmly  on  my  behavior,  I  saw  things  in 
a  more  serious  light.  'Was  it  not  possible,  yes, 
quite  as  probable  as  not,  that,  no  matter  how 
involuntary,  it  had  gone  too  far?  —  had  shown 
him  (he  must  believe),  the  levity  and  cruelty  of 
my  character,  and  suddenly  extinguished,  like 
water  on  fire,  the  flame  of  his  love  ?  —  or  at  least, 
shown  him  his  peril  in  yielding  to  it,  and  in  a 
moment  of  returning  reason  given  him  strength 
and  courage  to  tear  himself  away  and  flee  as  for 
his  life?  This  would  explain  the  abruptness  of 
his  going  and  —  and  all  the  rest.  Yes,  very 
likely  —  and  the  more  I  thought  of  it  the  more 
likely  it  seemed  —  that  I  should  never,  never 
see  him  again. 

"  Still  I  tried  not  to  believe  it,  and  used  every 

277 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

means  to  calm  my  mind.  But  the  fact  stood 
that  I  had  found  myself  suddenly,  unaccounta- 
bly, painfully  alone.  I  was  very  uneasy.  I  was 
really  alarmed. 

"  In  the  midst  of  my  tossing  anxiety  I  became 
conscious  of  delicious  notes,  ringing  like  silver 
bells,  or  the  pearly  droppings  of  some  exquisite 
guitar  issuing  from  among  the  boughs  of  an 
overhanging  tree.  My  attention  was  engaged 
for  a  considerable  time  in  searching  for  the 
source  of  this  liquid  melody.  At  last  I  dis- 
covered, far  out  from  the  trunk,  swinging  on  a 
slender  bough,  the  well-known  nest  of  the  '  Her- 
mit' thrush;  and  on  two  still  slenderer  twigs, 
overhanging  this  nest,  I  saw  its  two  feathery 
owners. 

"  I  knew  the  habit  of  this  bird  (which  returns, 
if  undisturbed,  to  the  same  nest,  year  after  year), 
and  I  saw  that  they  were  taking  a  last  look  at 
the  home  where  their  little  ones  had  just  been 
reared,  and  were  giving  it  a  farewell  song,  before 
departing  for  the  winter  to  warmer  regions. 

"  It  was  the  male  bird,  in  his  gaudy,  glossy 
coat,  from  whom  the  principal  stream  of  melody 
proceeded,  but  at  certain  intervals,  his  partner, 
who  sat  close  by,  on  another  twig,  looking 
demurely  down  into  the  empty  nest,  dropped 
two  or  three  soft  and  plaintive  notes  into  his 
278 


OF  MAR  TIG  NY 

strain,  which  seemed  to  close  the  measure. 
Then  the  same  melody  was  repeated,  in  the 
same  order,  with  the  same  intervals  and  the 
same  additions. 

"  This  repetition  executed  again  and  again  and 
again,  with  so  much  gentle  pertinacity  and  ear- 
nestness, struck  forcibly  on  my  attention,  seemed 
to  be  addressed  to  me,  and  aroused  a  sort  of  self- 
application  in  my  soul.  They  seemed  to  be 
endeavoring  to  make  me  understand  some  thing 
hidden  —  was  it  some  prophetic  meaning  ? 

'Was  it,'  I  thought  at  last,  'was  it,  perhaps  a 
requiem  over  the  corpse  of  my  hopes.  Who 
knows,  if  it  were  angels  in  the  form  of  birds,  sent 
by  my  guardian  or  the  blessed  Madonna,  to  com- 
fort and  strengthen  me  against  my  coming  sor- 
row ? '  I  was  surprised  to  feel  the  tears  again 
running  down  my  cheeks,  and  to  find  myself 
murmuring  half  aloud: 

'  O  cantatori  innamorati !  [enamored  songsters] 
—  exquisite  lovers,  exquisite  artists  !  Beautiful 
souls  must  be  yours,  to  pour  from  your  breasts 
such  strains !  Pure  and  tender  sentiments  only 
could  modulate  such  a  melody.  Lovely  emblems 
of  chaste  and  simple  affection,  teach  me  your 
innocence  and  your  peaceful  joy,  I  will  try  to 
understand  your  song' — 

"  Bang  !   bang  !  —  two  sharp  reports  in   quick 

279 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

succession,  made  me  jump  with  fright.  The  next 
instant,  both  the  birds  fell  bleeding  and  lifeless 
at  my  feet;  the  next,  a  trained  dog  came  like  the 
wind,  .and  bore  them  away  in  his  mouth;  the 
next  —  oh  blessed  relief  ! — Luigi  appeared  flying 
round  the  corner  of  the  cliff,  and  in  my  own 
bliss,  I  forgot  the  murder  of  the  innocents. 


THE    RETRIEVER. 


280 


OF  MAR  TIG  NY 


XXV. 

Of  the  judgments  of  woman,  full  often  the  best 
Is  suddenly  formed  and  as  quickly  expressed  — 
'Tis  a  part  of  her  dower  from  bountiful  heaven. 
This  intuitive  wisdom  to  men  is  not  given  ; 
'Tis  not  their  allotment  —  far  oftener  they  spoil 
Conclusions  not  wrought  out  with  time,  care,  and  toil.21 

ARIOSTO. 

((  \  ]l  7"  HAT  a  dream,"  said  my  companion,  "I 
V  V       had  been  dreaming !  —  so  sweet,  but, 
alas,  cut  so  suddenly  and  so  terribly  short ! 

"  Luigi  came  bringing  a  cup  which  I  knew  con- 
tained wine  that  he  was  carrying  with  his  lunch- 
eon.    When  he  arrived  in  front  of  me,  he  knelt 
on  the  flat  rock  and  handed  me  the  cup,  saying, 
— '  Drink,  mia  cara  ! '  [my  dear  one]. 
"  I  brought  the  cup  to  my  lips,  tasted,  and  re- 
turned it  to  his  hand.     He  took  it,  drank,  and 
gave  it  again  to  me,  saying, 

— '  Drink,  carissima  !  [dearest]  — drink  it  all.' 
"As  I  obeyed,  he  said,  softly, and  very  solemnly: 
— '  Like  this  blood  of  the  grape,  receive  my  love, 
which,  as  if  it  were  my  life-blood,  I  give  you.' 
281 


"  I  had  many  times  heard  this  formula  of  the 
'  loving  cup,'  and  knew  it  was  a  part  of  the  usual 
ceremony  and  contract  of  betrothal  between  par- 
ties of  our  rank  in  Tuscany.  I  always  thought  it 
beautiful  both  in  words  and  meaning;  and  looked 
forward,  like  all  maidens,  I  suppose,  with  ardent 
hopes  to  hearing  it  some  day  said  to  me,  and 
pictured  to  myself  that  moment  as  the  fulfill- 
ment of  eager  anticipations,  and  the  crown  of 
earthly  joy;  yet  now,  when  the  case  came  to 
be  indeed  my  own,  and  I  felt,  almost  without 
thinking  it  in  words,  that  from  the  moment  the 
cup  touched  my  lips,  it  would  bind  me,  soul 
and  body,  to  him,  with  a  vow  that  was  irrevo- 
cable in  the  sight  of  God  and  man,  and  would, 
according  to  the  common  custom  of  our  coun- 
try, give  him  a  husband's  rights,  though  the 
sanction  and  benediction  of  the  Church  should 
be  delayed — my  rollicking  sentiments  were  in- 
stantly altered. 

"  Dread  took  the  place  of  reckless  joy,  and 
mingled  with  and  mightily  restrained  my  former 
longing.  It  sounded  so  much  like  the  Sacrament, 
in  spite  of  my  dread,  and  that  almost  involun- 
tarily, I  slipped  down  upon  my  knees  and  said 
'amen,'  as  if  I  were  indeed  receiving  the  Com- 
munion. Then,  wondering  in  my  soul  to  hear  Luigi 
speak  the  words  and  in  such  a  way,  I  whispered  : 
282 


OF  MARTIGNY 

— '  O  Luigi,  it  sounds  like  the  Sacrament.' 

— '  Yes,'  he  said,  as  we  seated  ourselves  side  by 
side,  '  is  n't  Marriage  a  Sacrament  ? ' 

— '  Surely,  the  Catechismo  says  it  is,'  I  an- 
swered. 

— '  Is  n't  a  Sacrament  an  oath  on  life-blood  ? ' 
said  he. 

— '  The  Padre  has  often  told  us  so,'  I  said. 

— '  Is  n't  life-blood  the  sign  of  deepest,  truest, 
strongest  love  ? '  he  asked. 

— '  Sicuro]  said  I,  '  what  could  be  more  so  ? ' 

— 'Then  Marriage,'  said  he,  'is  the  oath  of 
deepest,  truest,  strongest  love  ? ' 

— '  I  think  so,  certainly,'  I  said. 

— '  And  the  wine  stands  for  life-blood  ? ' 

— '  I  know  it  does.' 

— '  Then  the  oath  of  love  by  wine  is  an  oath  of 
the  deepest,  truest,  strongest  love  ? ' 

— '  It  seems  so.' 

— '  And  Marriage,  we  said,  is  an  oath  of  the 
deepest,  truest,  strongest  love  ? ' 

— '  We  said  so.' 

— 'Then  is  n't  an  oath  of  deepest,  truest, 
strongest  love,  made  and  sworn  to  with  wine, 
really  and  truly  Marriage  ? ' 

"  Now,  indeed,  I  was  alarmed.  Had  I  not 
willingly  drank  with  him  the  cup  of  love, 
while  he  pronounced  the  solemn  words  ?  Was 
283 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

he  going  to  take  that  for  Marriage  ?  — '  Mon 
Dieu!'  thought  I,  to  the  very  brink  of  what 
a  precipice  has  my  indiscretion,  or  at  least  my 
inability  for  guidance,  brought  us  both  ! 

"  His  love  was  plain,  I  could  not  doubt  his  hon- 
est purpose,  his  character  I  even  revered  ;  but  I 
remembered,  with  terror,  that  love,  like  wine, 
could  intoxicate ;  and  where  the  power  of  both 
should  be  united,  what  an  inebriation  —  both  in- 
tellectual, moral,  and  physical  —  might  result ; 
and  what  might  not  a  man  thus  triply  drunken, 
think  or  do  ? 

"  I  had  hoped  to  lead  him  to  a  certain  point ; 
but  he  had  led  me  to  wholly  another.  I  must 
endeavor  at  once  to  bring  him  away  from  his 
thought.  Springing  to  my  feet  and  pulling  him 
to  walk  with  me  on  the  mossy  bank  of  the  brook, 
I  said  : 

— '  Ah,  Z,uigi,  I  do  not  understand  all  about  this, 
but  certainly  love  is  holy,  and  Marriage  is  holy, 
yet  in  some  way  I  am  sure  they  are  not  the  same. 
Marriage  must  be  something  more  than  love  — 
however  ardent,  deep,  and  true.' 

— 'Not  more,  not  more,'  he  said,  'but,  I  grant 
you,  something  different.  For  our  Immaculate 
Lady  and  the  holy  Angels  are  loving  and  lovely, 
and  God  Himself,  we  are  told,  is  Love  itself.  I 
spoke  only  of  mortal  men  and  women.' 
284 


OF  MARTIGNY 

— '  Can,  then,  this  holy  love  you  speak  of  be  ex- 
clusive between  two  only  ? '  I  asked. 

— '  Surely,  Adam  loved  Eve  with  holy  love  in 
sinless  Eden,'  he  said. 

— '  There  were  n't  any  other  women  there  then,' 
I  said. 

— 'Of  course  not,'  he  said,  with  a  shrug  of  his 
shoulders,  '  what  then  ? ' 

— 'Why,  just  this,'  I  said.  'Suppose  there  had 
been  other  Eves  in  the  garden,  all  just  alike, 
could  he  love  them  all  alike  ?  —  and  if  he  did, 
would  this  make  this  love  to  be  like  that  other 
holy  love  we  spoke  of  ? ' 

— •  I  do  n't  know  whether  he  could  love  them 
all  alike  at  the  same  time,'  he  said. 

— 'Well,  then,'  I  replied,  'if  he  loved  one  very 
much  more  dearly  than  the  others,  would  it  still 
be  the  holy  love  you  spoke  of  that  he  would  be 
loving  the  dearest  one  with  ? ' 

— '  If  it  had  become  Sacramental  love,  it  would 
surely  be  holy,'  said  he;  'for  does  n't  the  Sacra- 
ment make  it  holy  of  course?' 

— '  Then  the  Sacramental  love  is  holy  towards 
one  and  the  Angel-love  holy  towards  more,  and 
this  is  the  difference  between  them  ? '  I  said. 

— '  You  have  stated  it  exactly.' 

— '  The  Angel-love  and  the  Divine  love  we  know 
is  everlasting  and  cannot  change,'  I  remarked. 

285 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

— 'Yes,  we  know  that  certainly,'  he  said. 

— '  But  the  love  between  men  and  women,  we 
know,  is  sometimes  very  short  and  changes 
often.' 

— 'Alas,  we  know  that,'  said  he,  'it  is  too 
true  that  men  and  women  are  very  changeable 
creatures.' 

— '  But  Sacramental  love,'  I  continued,  is 
between  men  and  women,  can  that  then  be 
sometimes  short  and  change  often  ? ' 

— '  Surely  it  must  not,'  he  replied. 

— '  How  so  ? ' 

— '  Tell  me  how  love  becomes  Sacramental/  he 
said. 

— '  By  putting  it  under  the  Sacramental  oath,  I 
suppose.' 

— '  Precisely  so,'  said  he.     'And  how  long  then 
is  the  time  for  a   Sacramental  oath  to  last  ?  — 
can  it  change  ?  —  I  do  not  say,  often  —  but  ever  ?  * 

— 'Then  Sacramental  love  is  everlasting?' 

— '  How  can  it  be  otherwise  ? '  he  said. 

— '  Conjugal  love,'  said  I,  '  is  by  the  sacred  oath 
Sacramental  and  therefore  perpetual,  is  it  not?' 

— '  It  must  be  in  its  nature  so,'  he  said. 

— 'But  is  it  not  sometimes  broken  off  and 
destroyed  ? ' 

— '  Apparently  so,'  he  replied. 

— 'How  is  that?  —  how  can  it  be?' 
286 


OF  MARTIGNY 

— '  Why  simply  this,"  he  said, '  it  must  be — it  is, 
in  every  case  —  the  story  of  a  crime.' 

— '  Do  you  mean,'  I  asked,  '  that  in  every  case, 
the  sacred  oath  both  ought  to  have  been  kept 
and  might  have  been  ? ' 

. — 'Yes,'  said  he,  'undoubtedly  it  ought  and  un- 
doubtedly it  might  —  if  the  parties  had  willed  it.' 

— '  Can  we  love  by  willing  it  ? '  I  asked. 

— '  No,  I  think  not,'  said  he. 

— '  How  do  you  mean,  then  ? ' 

— '  I  mean  this,'  said  he.  '  Without  first  the 
living  spark,  of  course  you  can  have  no  fire.  No 
arranging  of  material,  and  no  fanning  of  the  cold 
pieces  will  kindle  a  flame.  But  when  the  spark 
is  already  kindled,  judicious  arrangement  and 
fanning,  will  be  that  which  will  ensure  and 
hasten  the  flame;  and  after  this,  continual  care 
and  addition  of  fuel  will  perpetuate  and  en- 
large the  fire,  so  that  it  need  never  wane.' 

— '  But  yet  it  often  does  wane,'  I  said. 

— 'True,'  said  he,  'I  mean  that  too.  I  mean 
that  the  fire  actually  burning,  and  at  first  as 
likely  as  any  other  fire,  under  proper  condi- 
tions, to  go  on  and  spread  and  last  indefinitely, 
may,  by  the  opposite  treatment,  be  as  certainly 
put  out.  The  two  in  whose  charge  it  is  —  and 
perhaps  either  of  the  two,  in  spite  of  the  best 
efforts  of  the  other  —  may  easily  quench  it,  by 
287 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

pouring  on  such  floods  that  no  fire  could  survive 
it  —  or  even  by  letting  it  burn  out  of  itself  and 
die  of  neglect.' 

— '  But/  said  I,  '  I  do  n't  like  the  simile  of  fire. 
I  do  n't  mean  the  heat  and  blaze  of  passion.' 

— 'Very  well,'  said  he,  'let  us  take  then  the 
common  yet  sweet  and  beautiful  emblem  of 
love  —  la  rosa  rossa  d'  amore  ['the  red  rose  of 
love  '].  I  will  grant,  nay,  I  maintain  that  love  is 
an  exotic  in  many  latitudes,  so  to  speak,  of  hu- 
man existence.  It  is  a  flower  originally  brought 
from  the  celestial  paradise,  but  nevertheless  it 
will  grow  and  bloom  in  terrestrial  gardens.  It 
will  do  it,  I  say,  but  it  requires  a  careful, 
constant,  thoughtful,  and  sometimes  an  ingen- 
iously thoughtful  cultivation  — 

— '  Ah,  Luigi  / '  —  I  interrupted,  but  he  went 
right  on: 

— '  It  requires,  in  fact,  a  double  culture  —  as 
they  tell  us  that  two  angels,  a  mighty  and  a 
gentle  one,  an  angel  of  power  and  an  angel  of 
grace,  were  set  to  take  care  of  Eden  together, 
till  the  charge  was  given  over  to  the  human 
pair.  The  culture  of  the  'red-rose-of-love,'  I 
say,  requires  the  strong,  bold  strokes  of  man- 
hood, and  not  less  the  soft,  shy,  subtle  touch 
of  womanhood.  Beyond  every  other  laborious 
culture,  the  precious  yet  tender  thing  must 
288 


OF  MARTIGNY 

be  shielded  from  every  rude  encounter,  every 
chilly  blast,  every  uncongenial  storm.  Neglect 
on  the  one  hand  will  cause  it  to  wither  away, 
on  the  other,  unprotected  winter  will  freeze  it 
to  death.' 

— '  It  is  safe,  then,'  said  I,  '  if  we  are  willing  to 
labor  for  it,  to  promise  "till  death"? 

— 'Most  surely,'  said  he,  'for  it  is  in  our 
power.' 

— 'But  now,  Luigi,  said  I,  suppose  again,  that 
there  had  been  two  Eves  just  alike  in  the  gar- 
den ;  and  that  Adam  had  found  and  loved 
one,  and  their  love  had  become  Sacramental 
love  together;  and  by  and  by  when  she  has 
gone  out  of  his  sight,  he  meets  the  other,  but 
does  not  know  it  is  another,  and  loves  her;  and 
this  love  becomes  Sacramental  love  between 
them; — would  this  his  love  then  be  holy  love? 
I  do  n't  speak  now  of  her  ?  ' 

— 'Only,  I  should  think,'  said  he,  'before  he 
knew  they  were  two.' 

— '  But  what  if  he  came  afterward  to  know 
that  they  were  two  loves  ? '  said  I. 

— '  You  know  the  catechismo  says  he  must  have 
but  one,'  said  he. 

— 'We  are  supposing  it  was  a  mistake,'  said  I. 

— 'Of    course,'    said    he,'    'for    otherwise    it 
could  not  have  become  Sacramental  love.' 
289 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

— 'And  a  mistake  must  be  corrected,  when  it 
is  found  out,  must  it  not  ? '  said  I. 

— 'It  seems  so,'  said  he. 

— 'Then  he  must  break  the  Sacrament  with 
one,'  said  I. 

— 'It  seems  that  it  must  be  so,'  said  he. 

— '  But  is  n't  it  a  dreadful  sin  to  break  the 
Sacrament  ? '  said  I. 

— '  The  Catehismo  says  so,'  he  replied. 

— •  Then  he  would  break  the  Catehismo,  if  he 
were  to  keep  both,  and  if  he  should  put  away 
one,  he  would  break  it  again?'  said  I;  'is  it 
not  so?' 

— 'Of  course,  that  cannot  be  denied,'  said  he; 
'but  then  the  second  is  to  correct  a  mistake, 
and  a  mistake  must  always  be  corrected,  if  it 
can  be,  when  it  is  found  out,  must  it  not? 

— '  I  do  n't  know,'  said  I.  '  That  's  the  very 
thing  I  am  asking  you  about.' 

— '  How  is  that  ? '  said  he. 

— 'Why,  if  I  understand  you,  it  is  that  he 
would  do  wrong  at  first  by  mistake  and  after- 
ward correct  it  by  doing  wrong  on  purpose.' 

— '  That  is  about  it,  perhaps,'  said  he. 

— '  Which,  then,  is  better,'  said  I,  to  do  wrong 
by  mistake,  or  do  wrong  on  purpose  ?  ' 

— '  Ah,  M '  amie,  said  he,  you  are  too  much  for 
me.     Perhaps  I  'm  wrong.' 
290 


OF  MARTIGNY 


XXVI. 

"  Then  is  there  mirth  in  heaven, 
When  earthly  things  made  even 
Atone  together. " 

As  You  LIKE  IT,  v,  4,  Hymn. 

((  A  S    we   seated  ourselves  again    under    the 

1~\     tree,  Luigi  continued  : 

'Why,  carissima,  do  you  talk  of  Eves  and  of 
Divorce,  as  if  any  such  thing  were  possible 
between  us?  —  Do  you  think  I  might  be  un- 
faithful ?  —  at  least  in  America  ? ' 

'I  think,'  said  I,  'you  are  noble  and  good, 
Luigi.  I'm  sure  of  that.' 

'Then  do  you  think  I  would  ever  —  ever  — 
oh,  I  can't  say  the  words,  "cast  you  off" — it 
frightens  me  to  think  of  them  —  do  you  think 
I  would  ever — ever — let  you  go — give  you  up, 
under  any  circumstances?' 

'  But  what  if  I  were  what  we  were  speaking 
of  —  not  the  first,  but  a  second  Eve  ? ' 

'  O  carissima  !  —  how  can  you  say  that  ?  Do 
you  think  I  have  had  another  love?  —  a  short- 
291 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

lived  flame  ?  —  and  forsaken  her  ?  —  and  will  do 
the  same  by  you  ?  — ' 

— 'I  think,'  I  interrupted,  'that'  —  but  he 
went  right  on: 

— '  Can  you  believe  I  would  deceive  you  ?  — 
seduce  you?  —  even  if  I  did  not  believe  your 
holy  virtue  were  impregnable  ?  —  and  adore  you 
for  it?—' 

— '  Luigi,  dear  Luigi' — I  tried  again  to  inter- 
ject, but  heeding  me  not,  he  still  continued,  in 
a  passionate  stream: 

— '  I  swear  to  you,  by  the  Blessed  Sacrament  — 

— '  Do  n't,  do  n't ! '  I  cried,  but  in  vain. 

— '  That  I  never  loved  another  —  no,  nor  never 
will.' 

— '  How  few  men  could  say  that,  and  a  great 
deal  less,  oh,  a  great  deal  less,  I  fear,  from  what 
I've  heard,'  I  found  room  to  say,  while  he  paused 
an  instant.  Then  he  continued  : 

'  Carissima  delle  donne  cJi  esistano  !  [dearest  woman 
alive]  I  never  knew  what  it  is  to  love,  till,  I  looked 
into  your  angel  face,  and  all  my  soul  was  full  of 
light,  and  I  "knew  good  and  evil."  When  now 
I  see  your  blessed  figure  sail  along,  I  think  it 
ought  not  to  touch  the  dusty  earth,  but  swim 
in  the  soft  air,  as  the  clouds  and  the  angels  do. 
When  I  look  down  into  the  awful  loveliness  of 
your  deep  eyes,  my  head  swims,  and  my  body 
292 


and  soul  seem  to  be  dissolving  in  a  warm  sea  of 
love.  O  mia  adorata !  could  I  ever  give  you  up 
for  another  ?  —  would  I  ever  give  you  up  at  all  ? ' 

— '  Would  n't  you,  though  ? '  I  said,  in  a  tone  of 
affectionate  irony.  For  such  very  sweet  "  taffy  " 
as  he  had  been  proffering,  though  it  was  delicious 
to  hear  it,  I  knew  well  enough  was  superhuman 
stuff,  like  the  ambrosia  of  old  Olympus,  and  just 
as  mythical ;  and  I  did  n't  know  how  much  was 
due  to  the  fumes  of  that  strong  wine  he  had 
been  drinking,  and  the  effects  of  which  I  felt, 
with  some  alarm,  to  be  rather  warm  and  lively 
around  my  own  palpitating  heart  at  that  mo- 
ment; so  that  I  was  in  a  very  anxious  state 
both  of  thought  and  feeling. 

'  Would  n't  you,  though  ?  '  I  repeated,  in 
that  same  semi-affectionate,  semi-quizzical  tone, 
'  would  n't  you,  though  ?  —  not  if  you  found  out 
that  my  hair  was  partly  blue,  or  that  there  was 
an  ugly  scratch  or  scar,  or  spot  on  my  arm,  or 
neck,  or  somewhere  ? ' 

— '  Cruel,  cruel  girl ! '  he  uttered,  in  a  mingled 
tone  of  sadness,  anger,  and  love,  'why  will  you 
talk  so  ?  I  could  n't  give  you  up  if  I  would,  for 
have  n't  we  taken  together  the  Sacrament  of  ever- 
lasting love  ?  But,  most  surely,  I  would  n't  if  I 
could,  for  I  love  supremely  your  dear  soul  and 
dear  body  through  which  it  shines  in  every  fea- 

293 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

ture.  I  say  once  for  all,  I  love  you  just  as  you 
are.  I  would  n't  have  you  changed  —  not  even  to 
make  you  more  beautiful,  if  that  were  possible.  I 
would  n't  have  your  hair  a  single  shade  lighter  or 
darker,  nor  one  of  your  ringers  a  hair-breadth 
shorter  or  longer.  I  want  everything  as  it  is. 
I  want  you,  mia  cara,  cara,  carissima  [my  dear, 
dear,  dearest]  —  you  and  not  anything  else  — 
even  better  than  you.' 

— '  Santa  Madonna  ! '  I  exclaimed,  '  you  are,  in- 
deed, a  lover  worthy  of  the  chivalric  days  of  my 
ancestors !  What  girl  of  to-day  is  worthy  of  you  ? 
What  girl  in  the  whole  world  might  >not  well  be 
crazed  with  your  love  ?  But  then,  you  feel  sure 
you'll  never  be  put  to  that  trial.  Yet  you  may  — 
you  may  be  put  to  the  test,  Luigi,  carissimo! 

— 'Well,'  he  said,  'let  it  come.  Per  r  amor  di 
Dio,  let  it  come  ! ' 

— '  Ah,  Luigi,'  I  said,  '  do  n't  swear  any  more. 
I  swore  a  dreadful  oath  about  our  Lady,  in  my 
distress  and  despair ;  and  when  I  went  to  duty, 
I  got  the  worst  penance  of  all  my  life.  I  only  got 
absolution  yesternight.' 

— '  It's  long,'  said  he,  '  since  I  went  to  confes- 
sion, and  I  shall  eat  much  bread  before  I  go  again, 
unless  — ' 

— ' But  you'll  have  to  go,'  I  interrupted,  'before 
you  eat  the  bread  of  a  good  Marriage  — ' 
294 


— 'Marriage  ecclesiastical,'  said  he,  'you  mean 
to  say.' 

— '  Yes,  of  course,  I  mean  that ;  and  is  n't  that 
a  good,  even  the  best  Marriage  ?  For  did  n't  the 
Saviour  say  we  could  judge  the  good  and  the  bad 
of  such  things  by  the  fruits  ?  —  and  what  other 
thing  shows  more  clearly  that  the  Church  is  a 
kind,  good  Mother,  than  her  lovely,  holy,  ever- 
lasting Marriage?  —  unless  it  is,  by  contrast,  the 
dreadful  Divorces  and  wicked  doings  about  it,  we 
hear  of  in  those  wretched  countries  where  she 
and  her  holy  rules  are  rejected?' 

— '  I  shall  go,  then,'  said  he,  'for  your  dear  sake, 
just  as  for  that  I  would  go  to  any  other  punish- 
ment.' 

— 'But  the  penance,'  said  I,  'whatever  it  should 
be,  will  be  made  up  for  in  the  future.  God  for- 
bid we  should  be  separated  in  Eternity  !  Rather 
would  I  go  with  you,  Luigi,  to  the  Inferno,  like 
poor  France  sea  da  Rimini  ;  but  how  much  better 
to  go  together  to  Paradiso  /' 

— '  I  was  n't  thinking  of  the  penance,'  said  he. 
'I  dare  not  tell  you  —  it's  of  no  consequence  — 
what  I  think.' 

'  May  our  Lady  and  all  the  Saints  and  Angels 

keep  you,'  I  said,  'from  saying,  or  thinking  any 

wicked  thing  of  the  Church;  or  of  her  sacred 

priests.     The  Church  is  our  Mother  and  theirs; 

295 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

and  they  are  mostly  holy  men,  in  hard  poverty, 
who  are  toiling  under  every  kind  of  self-denial, 
for  our  salvation.  We  owe  them,  all  men  owe 
them,  not  suspicion  and  ill  will,  but  trust  and 
affection.  But  I,  too,  dare  not  tell  you  what  I  not 
only  think,  but  know;  and  not  about  the  church 
and  the  reverend  priests,  but  about  —  myself  — 
my  own  poor  self.  Yet  I  must  tell  you.  For  "  can 
you  believe  I  would  deceive  you  ? — would  seduce  you  ?" 

— '  No,  Carissima,  ten  thousand  noes.  I  would 
trust  my  life,  and  my  eternal  life,  too,  in  your 
hands,  as  quickly  as  a  straw.' 

— '  Ah,  Luigi,  do  n't  say  it  ! ' 

— '  I  mean  it  all/  said  he. 

— '  Lutgi,'  said  I,  now,  in  a  voice  that  hardly 
came  out  of  my  throat  and  which  I  felt  quiver- 
ing in  the  center  of  my  heart,  '  Luigi,  you  do  n't 
know  me.' 

— '  Do  n't  know  you  ! '  he  exclaimed,  '  do  n't 
know  you !  by  the  holy  Confirmation,  do  n't  be- 
gin that  cruel  sport. again,  I  pray.' 

"  As  he  said  this,  he  slapped  me  gently  on  the 
cheek  (as  the  Bishop  does  in  that  rite  of  the 
Church),  then  threw  his  great  arms  around  me 
and  pressed  me  unresisting  to  his  bosom,  im- 
printing kisses  on  my  cheeks  —  I  know  not  how 
many,  and  saying  as  he  did  it : 

— '  I'll  mark  you,  then,  and  seal  you  for  my  own 

296 


OF  MAR  TIG  NY 

—  there  —  there  —  there '  (with  every  kiss)  '  mine ! 

—  eternally  mine  ! ' 

"This  overwhelmed  me.  I  was  conquered, 
crushed,  trodden  in  the  dust,  till  there  was  no 
'more  strength  left  in  me  for  choice  or  resist- 
ance. Utterly  broken  up,  I  burst  into  sobs. 
Under  the  stress  of  an  invincible  propulsion 
within,  yet  with  the  utmost  physical  difficulty, 
I  ejected  from  my  bursting  breast  these  four 
dreadiul  words,  syllable  by  syllable  : 

— 'You  —  think  —  me  —  Maria,'  and  then  sobbed 
on,  hanging  down  my  head  in  delicious  pain  and 
shame. 

— '  Or  rather,'  he  interrupted,  '  mia  donna  Maria 
carissima  [my  dearest  love  Mary]  — ' 

— '  No,  no,  Luigi,  it's  false  !  —  all  false  !  '  I  cried 
or  more  truly  screamed,  I  suppose,  for  I 
was  indeed  beside  myself  with  the  conflicting 
emotions  of  time  and  eternity,  desires  and 
fears,  hope  and  despair,  surging  in  one  blind 
turmoil  in  my  distracted  soul.  '  No,  no,  Luigi,  it 
is  not  so,  it  is  not  so,'  I  repeated  many  times.  '  I 
am  not  Maria.  Would  to  God  and  our  Lady  I 
were  !  —  were  smooth,  fair,  sound,  unscratched, 
loved  Maria !  —  but  I  am  not.  I  am  only 
scratched,  banged,  spotted,  sad,  uncared-for, 
forgotten  Marta.' 

"Then  I  could  hold  in  no  longer.  I  put  my 
297 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

hands  over  my  face  and  burst  into  a  paroxysm  of 
tears.  He  slowly  gave  up  my  hand  (which  he 
had  been  holding,  bringing  it  from  time  to  time 
to  his  lips),  returning  it  to  my  lap,  and  I  heard  a 
soft  but  piteous  groan  that  made  me  shudder. 
Then  for  a  few  moments  all  was  still,  except 
my  sobs  which  I  could  not  control ;  between 
which  I  heard  him  murmuring  under  his  breath, 
and  the  first  words  I  caught  were  : 

'  Is  she  out  of  her  head  ?  —  or  am  I  dreaming  ? 
—  oh,  I  can't  endure  this  ! ' 

"  Then  it  was  still  again  for  a  little,  and  then 
he  took  my  hand  and  said,  quietly  : 

— '  Carissima,  I  can't  bear  to  have  you  sob  so, 
but  I  know  — ' 

— '  O  Luigi,  you  do  n't  know,'  I  interrupted ; 
and  with  a  great  effort  I  now  succeeded  in 
checking  my  sobs,  and  was  resolved  to  stake 
my  all  at  one  throw.  So  I  said,  with  the  most 
quiet  and  earnest  tone  I  could  command : 

— '  Dear  Luigi,  believe  me,  for  really  and  truly 
I  am  serious  now  and  am  in  my  right  mind.  You 
do  n't  know,  because  you  never  saw  Marta  before 
- —  unless  —  it  was  —  was  when  — '  here  I  choked 
again,  and  for  my  life,  I  could  n't  force  out  a 
word  more,  but  gave  a  great  sob,  covered  my 
face  with  my  hands,  and  was  still.  Then  I  heard 
him  murmuring  to  himself  : 
298 


OF  MARTIGNY 

'  Per  Dio  !  —  Is  it  possible  !  —  It  must  be  so. —  I 
had  forgotten. —  I  had  forgotten.' 

"  Presently,  very  tenderly  and  with  much  hesi- 
tation, he  began  : 

— '  Then  —  you  know  —  about  that  —  that  time. 
I  thought  nobody  but  me  —  and  uncle  —  knew 
much  about  it.' 

— 'Of  course,  I  know  —  I  know,'  I  stammered 
out,  '  for  —  for  it  was  I  —  and  —  and  it  was  —  was 
something — something  dreadful  —  but  —  but  I  — 
I  do  n't  know  just  what. —  Tell  me  —  tell  me, 
Luigi]  I  said,  still  keeping  my  face  covered  with 
my  hands.  He  made  no  reply,  and  I  repeated: 

— '  Tell  me,  tell  me,  Luigi.  I  must  know  —  if  it 
kills  me  —  I  must  know.' 

— '  It's  no  matter,  now,'  he  said,  '  I  have  never 
told  anybody.  I  never  should  have  spoken  of  it, 
and  I  never  shall.  It's  no  matter  to  remember, 
it's  no  matter  at  all.' 

— 'You  must  tell  me,'  I  said.  'I  ought  to  know 
—  and  —  and  I  think  I  have  a  right  to  know  — 
from  you  —  from  you,  Luigi.' 

— 'I'm  almost  ashamed,'  he  said,  'to  tell  my 
dream.  I  was  so  weak  and  light-headed,  then  — 
and  —  and  it  signifies  nothing.' 

— '  Oh,  was  it  only  a  dream  ?  —  was  n't  it  true, 
then  ? '  I  cried,  catching  at  a  straw,  drowning  as 
I  was,  in  terror  ;  and  being  thus  comforted  for  an 

299 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

instant,  by  this  idea,  I  raised  my  head  and  looked 
up  into  his  face.  He  was  looking  far  away  down 
the  valley. 

— '  Something  was  true,  of  course,'  he  said. 

— '  Tell  me  Luigi  —  tell  me  all  —  tell  me  quick. ' 

— 'If  I  should,  it  would  be  only  to  obey  you,' 
he  said.  '  I  should  never  speak  of  it  except 
at  your  command,  for  it  is  nothing,  nothing, 
nothing.' 

—'Tell,'  I  said,  'tell  everything.' 

— '  If  I  must,  then,'  said  he,  '  I  was  dreaming 
about  the  river  behind  our  Mantuan  home.  I 
used  often  in  summer  to  go  there  to  swim.  My 
little  sister,  Lappa,  before  she  went  to  live  with 
the  Marchesa  used  to  go  there  for  berries  in 
summer  and  for  nuts  in  autumn. 

'  There  were  raspberry  bushes  and  hazel 
bushes,  and  chestnut  trees  all  around,  and  two 
high  rocks  which  had  a  narrow  opening  be- 
tween them  like  a  gateway  on  the  side  toward 
the  house. 

'  The  opposite  bank  was  a  very  steep,  bare 
rock  which  came  down  from  the  mountains, 
and  nobody  ever  went  there.  In  the  night,  we 
sometimes  heard  wolves  barking  there;  and 
once  when  Uncle  was  with  us  —  it  was  clear 
moonlight  —  he  shot  at  one  across  the  river. 
The  next  morning  we  found  it  lodged  in  the 
300 


bushes  further  down,  but  I  never  knew  of  any 
swimming  across  the  river. 

'  It  was  a  very  hot  day.  I  was  at  work  among 
the  vines.  The  Babbo  was  still  in  his  siesta. 
Nobody  was  near.  Lappa,  after  finishing  her 
tasks  in  the  house,  had  passed  toward  the 
river,  telling  me  where  she  was  going. 

'  This  was  a  common  thing;  and  I  did  n't 
think  of  it  again,  till  I  heard  the  wolves  bark- 
ing, and,  looking  up,  I  saw  Lappa  running 
towards  me,  like  a  frightened  sea-nymph,  her 
long  hair  streaming  behind  her  and  a  great 
wolf  yelping  at  her  heels.  She  rushed  directly 
into  my  arms,  her  wet  locks  flew  into  my  face, 
and  she  came  against  my  breast  with  such  a 
blow  that  I  awoke. — You  know  the  rest.' 

— '  No,'  I  said,  trembling  all  over,  '  I  do  n't 
know  it  at  all. —  Tell  me  —  tell  me  all  —  every 
worst  thing. —  If  it  kills  me,  let  me  die  now  — 
with  nobody  here  but  you.' 

"  He  hesitated,  but  I  urged  till  he  proceeded  : 

— '  When  I  first  opened  my  eyes,  I  thought,  for 
an  instant,  that  the  dream  was  real.  You  (if  it 
was  you)  were  lying  partly  on  my  breast.  My 
arm  was  under  you,  and  your  cheek  was  on  the 
pillow.  You  seemed  asleep. 

'  Then  I  wondered  where  I  was.  Of  course,  I 
wondered  to  see  her  there,  and  was  at  my  wits' 
301 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

end  what  to  do,  when  I  heard  a  voice  out- 
side, and  in  an  instant  more  a  step  at  the 
door.  I  looked,  saw  Uncle,  and  heard  him  ex- 
claim something  —  I  do  n't  know  what  —  then 
saw  him  throw  his  blanket  and  take  her  in 
it  quickly  away.  The  dog,  too,  was  growl- 
ing fiercely  around  the  room.  Uncle  soon  re- 
turned, but  we  have  never  spoken  of  the  thing.' 

— '  But  did  n't  you  observe,'  I  said,  '  anything 
on  her  neck  or  anywhere  ? ' 

— '  Yes,  I  saw  a  red  rosary  and  crucifix  hang- 
ing there,'  he  said. 

— 'Tell  me,  Luigi,'  I  persisted,  'was  that  all 
you  noticed?' 

— 'Well,  there  was  a  dark  spot  below  the 
crucifix,'  he  said. 

— '  Did  n't  you  despise  and  hate  her  ? '  I  said, 
in  a  trembling  whisper. 

'  No,  surely  not,'  he  said,  '  why  should  I  ?  —  I've 
hardly  thought  of  it  again.  I  was  too  weak  then 
to  mind  it,  and  afterwards  too  worried,  and  since 
too  happy  —  unless,'  he  added,  after  a  pause, 
'when  thinking  of  the  future.' 

— 'Ten  thousand  thanks,  dear  Luigi,'  I  said, 
putting  both  my  hands  in  one  of  his,  "  I  have 
forced  you  to  tell,  now  I  will  compel  you  to 
listen.  You  must  hear  me.  If  you  despise  me, 
I  shall  die,  but  I  will  die  here  with  you.' 
302 


OF  MARTIGNY 

"  I  looked  up  into  his  face.  It  looked  so  noble 
and  true,  yet  so  worried.  His  hand  trembled, 
but  he  did  not  take  it  away  from  mine.  I  went 
on  : 

'  Lttigi,'  I  said,  '  I  must  tell  you  all.  You  must 
know  all.'  Then,  with  a  spasm,  I  seized  the  pink 
shirred  rosette,  and  tore  it  from  my  heart-shaped 
dress-front.  I  closed  my  eyes;  and  while  I  seemed 
to  see  a  shower  of  shooting  stars  before  my  fiery 
eye-balls,  I  pointed  with  my  trembling  finger  to 
the  pink  crucifix  and  to  the  dark  seal  of  my 
identity  below. 

l£ccolo!'  eccolo !  [See  it,  see  it],  I  stammered 
on.  'I  am  she  —  I  am  she.  I  was  watching — 
all  day  —  by  your  bed — of  pain.  Oh,  so  dread- 
ful —  it  was.  Maria  was  with  the  sheep. 
Velloso —  Leo,  I  mean  —  would  not  go.  I  was 
alone  —  with  him  and  you.  I  was  trying  — 
trying  to  be  good — to  you.  My  heart  ached  — 
to  hear  you  —  moan,  moan,  moan  —  so  hoarse 
and  low  and  trembling  —  and  Leo  was  always 
rolling  his  eyes  —  toward  the  bed  —  or  me  — 
and  growling — and  sometimes  —  grinning  and 
gnashing  his  teeth ' — 

"  Before  I  had  said  half  of  this,  he  had  gently 
taken  my  hand  away  from  my  bosom,  and 
brought  the  shawl  that  was  about  my  shoulders 
closely  around  and  fastened  it  in  front,  and 

303 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

when  at  last  I  opened  my  eyes,  he  had  his 
arms  folded  across  his  breast  and  was  look- 
ing down  on  me  with  his  great,  soft  eyes  so 
tenderly;  yet  his  face  wore  a  look  so  solemn 
and  so  sad.  I  was  a  little  comforted  by  that 
look,  but  it  was  with  my  heart  beating  very 
fast  that  I  dropped  my  eyes  and  my  hands  in 
my  lap  and  went  on  with  my  story: 

'At  last  there  was  a  moment  when  there 
came  a  sudden  and  a  frightful  change.  The 
flushed  face  grew  ashy  pale. —  O  Luigi,  I  loved 
you.  I  thought  then  you  were  dying.  It  put 
me  out  of  my  head  with  grief  and  fright.  I 
thought  of  the  acquavite  [brandy].  I  rushed  to 
the  little  stand.  I  snatched  up  a  glass  and 
poured  in.  Holding  it  in  one  hand,  with  the 
other  I  tore  away  my  camicinetta  and  seized 
the  crucifix  —  and  was  flying  to  the  bedside  — 
to  make  you  swallow  the  liquor  —  and  to  pray 
• — to  pray  on  the  crucifix  for  your  life  —  or,  at 
least,  for  your  passing  soul — ' 

— '  Angel  from  heaven  ! '  I  heard  him  murmur, 
but  I  went  right  on  : 

— '  I  heard  a  horrid  growl  at  my  ear.  My  foot 
tripped  on  the  wolfskin  rug.  I  felt  a  sharp  pain 
on  my  shoulder  and  knew  I  was  plunging  for- 
ward —  upon  —  I  know  not  where  —  and  —  and  I 
know  no  more  — ' 

304 


OF  MARTIGNY 

"  Here  I  broke  down,  and  could  say  no  more, 
only  to  sob  out,  word  by  word, 

— 'Except  —  that  —  I  found  —  found  myself — . 
alone  —  in  the  cot  —  in  the  loft-chamber  —  and  — 
and  the  phials  —  of  the  Medico  —  around  —  around 
me  —  and  —  and  —  I  could  not  —  could  not  raise 
my  head  —  nor  think  —  nor  guess  —  what  —  what 
had  happened  —  happened  to  —  to  me  —  and 
Maria  said  —  said  that  the  Medico  forbade  —  for- 
bade me  —  to  look  —  even  to  look  out  —  out  of 
the  window  —  and  —  and  so  —  so  —  I've  kept  — • 
kept  away  —  away  from  you  —  and  —  and  I 
thought  —  thought  I  should  —  I  should  never  — 
never  see  you  again  —  and  —  and  I  think  —  yes, 
Tm  sure  —  you  —  you  love  —  love  Maria  —  and  — 
and  I  love — love  —  Maria  —  oh  dear,  oh  dear!' 

"  He  did  not  speak,  but  I  saw  great  tears  roll 
over  his  cheeks,  and  looking  up  through  my 
tears  into  his  swimming  eyes,  I  said  softly,  yet 
earnestly : 

— '  You  do  love  Maria,  do  n't  you  ? ' 

— '  I  will  not  deny  it,'  he  said,  tenderly. 

— 'You  kissed  her  when  you  said  "  Addio" 
did  n't  you  ? '  I  persisted. 

— '  No,  never  ! '  he  said,  earnestly. 

— '  But  you  embraced  her  then  ? '  I  urged. 

— '  My  soul  ?  Yes  !  —  My  arms  ?  Never  ! '  he 
said,  still  more  earnestly. 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

"  Then,  with  a  nervous  spring,  he  bounded 
from  the  sofa-bank,  holding  his  temples  with 
both  hands,  ran  to  the  little  brook  and  walked 
hurriedly  up  and  down  many  times  on  the 
mossy  brink  of  the  prattling  stream,  stopping 
again  and  again  to  look  down  into  the  sheeny 
water,  where  schools  of  tiny  fishes  were  frol- 
icking over  the  pebbly  bottom,  but  during  what 
seemed  to  me  a  long,  long  hour,  he  did  not  once 
look  toward  me.  He  seemed  to  be  absorbed  in 
an  agony  of  self-consultation. 

"At  last  the  conflict  appeared  to  be  ended. 
His  extreme  nervousness  ceased.  He  came 
and  stood  again  at  my  side,  and  took  both  my 
hands  in  his,  but  said  nothing.  There  was  now 
a  long  silence  between  us.  I  dared  not  break 
it,  and  he  did  not.  He  closed  his  eyes,  but  still 
held  my  two  hands  in  his,  which  trembled  yet. 

"  But  he  now  became  ever  more  and  more 
calm.  The  tears  which  had  been  from  time  to 
time  shooting  across  his  cheeks  flowed  no  longer. 
The  trembling  in  his  hands  passed  off  gradually, 
and  was  presently  gone.  A  look  of  peaceful 
satisfaction  came  over  his  face.  He  opened 
his  eyes,  and  looking  down  on  me  with  a  noble 
gentleness,  in  soft  but  faltering  tones,  he  said : 

'  It  is  so  —  so  —  so.  Duty  —  my  duty  is  ..." 
He  did  not  finish  the  sentence,  but  stooping 
306 


OF  MARTIGNY 

and  raising  my  hands  to  his  lips,  kissed  them 
fervently  and  laid  them  again  in  my  lap. 

"  While  he  was  speaking,  I  had  closed  my  eyes 
in  a  sort  of  dreamy  content ;  and  when  his  voice 
ceased,  I  did  not  immediately  open  them,  for  I 
was  dazed  with  my  own  thoughts.  When  at  last 
I  became  conscious  of  the  silence  and  raised 
my  eyes  to  look  about  me,  Luigi  was  gone  — 
gone  for  the  second  time,  and  was  it  not  surely 
now  forever?  I  sprang  up  with  a  pang  of 
alarm,  and  flew  to  the  turn  in  the  path  around 
the  great  rock.  I  was  only  in  time  to  see  him 
disappearing  in  a  distant  turn  of  the  high  road 
toward  Martigny.  , 

"  I  was  frightened  indeed.  A  hundred  uncanny 
explanations  suggested  themselves  to  me  in  a 
moment.  '  That  last  unfinished  sentence  to  begin 
with  —  did  it  bode  good  or  ill  ?  Was  that  discov- 
ered and  overpowering  duty  going  to  give  him  to 
me  —  or  carry  him  to  Maria  —  or  —  or  —  was  it 
not  more  likely,  from  his  behavior,  driving  him, 
in  his  distraction  and  wretchedness,  to  drop  us 
both  and  vanish  from  the  scene,  in  the  army,  or 
in  America?  I  think  he  has  dropped  us  both.' 

"But  there  was  no  human  help  for  it.  The 
mule  was  gone.  I  could  not  overtake  him. 
Even  if  it  were  possible,  what  good  would  it 
do?  What  else  could  the  result  be,  but  to  have 

307 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

my  love  (already  proffered  under  such  mortify- 
ing conditions)  again,  and  in  still  colder  blood, 
rejected  ?  My  maiden  pride  fought  fiercely 
with  my  distracting  love.  Piercing  thoughts 
crowded  upon  me  from  every  quarter.  My 
poor  heart  sank  under  a  hundred  stabs.  I 
felt  as  if  I  were  dying,  and  for  the  moment, 
I  wanted  to  die. 

"  Then  I  reviewed  his  conduct  again  and  again. 
He  had  been  so  intense  in  his  love,  and  so  de- 
cided in  his  choice,  before ;  and  so  calm,  so 
gentle,  so  tender,  since  the  trying  ordeal  which 
revealed  my  indisputable  identity  and  reversed 
his  hopes  — '  was  not  this  a  good  omen  for  me  ? 
—  was  it  not  almost  a  proof  that  he  was  surely 
settling  back  into  my  arms?  —  and  would  not 
all  our  future  life  together  be  so  much  the 
more  indissolubly  welded,  by  these  recast  join- 
ings, these  cicatrized  wounds,  the  reaction  of 
these  shocks  and  strains  securely  outridden  ? ' 

"  But  then  it  flashed  upon  me  in  another  light. 
'Wasn't  that  last  tenderness  meant  to  soften  the 
final  blow? — to  mingle  the  gentlest  possible  mem- 
ories with  the  coming  shock  which  duty — what 
he  felt  to  be  his  inevitable  duty — he  knew  would 
give  me  at  the  moment  of  my  awaking  to  the 
dreadful  fact — memories  which  to  my  dying  day 
also  would  sweeten  the  bitterness  of  it  ? 
308 


OF  MARTIGNY 

'What  if  that  silence  was  what  he  felt  to  be 
a  better  thing  than  words  —  indeed  the  only 
thing  to  be  endured  —  at  such  a  parting?  What 
if  that  pressure  of  both  my  hands,  the  im- 
print of  his  impassioned  kisses  there,  were  the 
native  language  of  an  unspeakable  love  and 
an  unspeakable  anguish  giving  an  everlasting 
farewell ! ' 

"  One  moment  in  hope,  the  next  in  doubt,  the 
third  in  despair,  with  a  heart  swiftly  palpitating 
under  conflicting  emotions,  I  crept  slowly  back 
to  the  mossy  bank,  my  eyes  dim  with  tears  and 
my  limbs  trembing  in  every  nerve;  and  throw- 
ing myself  on  my  knees  I  prayed  to  the  dear 
Madre  di  Dio,  to  pity  me  and  send  my  Luigi 
back  to  me. 

"  So  I  prayed  and  wept  and  prayed  again, 
until,  from  excitement  and  exhaustion,  I  fell 
asleep  on  my  knees.  After  this,  it  may  have 
been  longer  or  shorter,  the  touch  of  Luigi's 
hand  on  my  shoulder  was  the  first  thing  I 
remember;  and  in  an  instant  more,  almost  be- 
fore I  was  aware  of  it,  he  had  lifted  me  from 
my  knees,  and  we  were  sitting  again  side  by 
side  on  the  sofa-bank. 

"  Half-way  between  silent  hope  and  silent 
despair,  I  looked  up  into  his  sober  face  and  he 
immediately  began: 

309 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

1  Most  surely  Iddio  or  our  guardian  has  decided 
our  lot.  Unquestionably  you  are  "the  first 
Eve "  ;  and  yours  is  the  Sacrament  of  love.  I 
did,  unknowing,  and  as  I  think,  innocently, 
wander  after  the  second.  Yet,  grazie  a  Dio,  I 
did  not  become  entangled  with  any  bonds  of 
duty  there. 

'  But  if  any  tender  sentiments  must  now  go 
unreciprocated,  which  may  have  sprung  up  in 
the  heart  of  the  other  Eve  —  the  dear  girl  — 
my  heart  bleeds  to  think  of  it  —  through  my 
ignorance  or  indiscretion,  we  must  do  every- 
thing in  our  power  to  soothe  and  console  her 
gentle  heart  and  make  up  for  the  wrong  — 
involuntary  wrong  —  by  our  lifelong  kindness. 

'  Between  us  the  Sacrament  was  and  is  sole 
and  true,  although  clouded  then  by  ignorance 
in  my  intention.  By  proxy,  at  first,  as  it  seems, 
I  was  charmed  (such  was  the  will  of  heaven), 
by  the  beauty  of  thy  body.  I  was  also  ravished 
by  the  sweetness  of  her  spirit  which  was  an 
image  of  thine.  Now  clouds  have  vanished, 
and  all  is  reality.  The  proxy  has  served  its 
heaven-sent  purpose;  and  is  now  as  a  dream  of 
the  past.  We  stand  already  in  a  union,  invisible 
and  spiritual,  yet  indissoluble.  If  thou  art  will- 
ing we  will  be  made  outwardly  and  lawfully 
one,  by  the  arm  of  the  State  and  the  benedic- 
310 


tion   of  the   Church  —  and   what   we   are   to  do 
we  cannot  delay.' 

"I    buried    my   face    in    his   bosom   and    said 
nothing." 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 


XXVIL 

"  I  have  waited  so  long  for  thee,  Love  ! 

Art  thou  come  to  me,  Dearest,  at  last  ? 
Oh,  bless  Thee,  my  Joy  and  my  Dove  ! 
This  is  worth  all  the  wearisome  past." 

F.  W.  FABER. 

« r  I^HE  bliss  of  the  next  few  minutes!  —  who 
1  can  describe  it  ?  —  but  you  will  guess  it 
aright,  for  it  is,  I  think,  always  and  every- 
where the  same  • —  the  trustful  embrace  —  the 
long,  long  kiss,  in  which  the  very  souls  com- 
mingle with  one  another  —  the  conscious  blessed- 
ness that  drowns  the  united  two  in  one  sea  of 
oblivious  joy. 

"We  experienced  it  all.  No  lovers  were  ever 
more  blessed.  There  was  no  more  doubt,  no 
more  uncertainty.  We  understood  each  other 
now.  All  was  peace.  All  was  infinite  joy. 

"  But  our  time  pressed,  and  in  five  minutes 
we  were  on  our  way  to  the  town.  I  was  seated 
on  the  mule,  the  bridle-rein  hanging  loose  in 
my  hand,  dreaming  dreams  that  were  all  to  be 
reversed.  Luigi  walked  at  my  side,  with  eyes 
312 


OF  MARTIGNY 

lowered  upon  the  ground,  apparently  absorbed 
in  watching  the  shambling  steps  of  the  mule. 

"After  a  pretty  long  silence — it  seemed  long 
though  delicious  to  me  —  Luigi  began,  as  he 
said,  with  'a  story  —  if  it  was  a  story.'  The 
substance  of  what  he  said  was  this: 

'Good  old  padre  Gilberto  di  Pastrengo  is  prior 
of  the  Convento  of  the  Benedettini  at  Mentova. 
He  has  been  an  intimate  of  our  family  and  my 
father's  friend  from  childhood.  On  my  eigh- 
teenth birthday,  I  went  to  the  Convento  with 
some  choice  wine,  and  a  letter  from  my  father 
to  the  abate  Gilberto,  asking  him  to  accept  the 
present  on  the  score  of  old  friendship  and  to 
give  me  not  only  the  usual  natale  [birthday- 
blessing],  but  also  a  general  benediction  upon 
my  opening  manhood. 

'  He  received  me  most  lovingly,  took  me  to 
the  High  Mass  (for  it  was  the  feast  of  St. 
Luke,  my  patron),  and  made  me  receive  the 
Communion  in  the  Chapel  with  the  padri  and 
frati  [cleric  and  lay  monks],  and  afterward 
brought  me  to  their  midday  meal. 

'This  was  eaten  in  the  great  Refettorio  [mon- 
astic dining-hall],  which,  with  its  furnishings, 
was  a  curiosity  to  me.  A  rather  narrow  table 
of  uncovered  and  unpainted  wood  ran  through 
the  whole  length  of  the  hall  on  either  side, 

313 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

with  a  bench  behind  immediately  against  the 
wall.  Across  the  end  opposite  the  entrance 
hung  a  very  large  picture  reaching  from  side 
to  side  of  the  room.  It  was  a  Last  Supper  —  a 
beautiful  copy  of  the  Cenacolo  di  Fotigno,  so  long 
of  unknown  origin,  but  then  lately  discovered 
(to  the  infinite  delight  of  the  owners),  to  bear 
the  sign-manual  of  Raffaelle  himself.28  This  was 
interesting  to  me  every  way,  and  by  far  the 
most  beautiful  thing  of  its  kind  I  had  ever 
seen.  At  the  side  of  the  entrance  door,  was  a 
kind  of  pretty  high  pulpit  for  the  brother  who 
read  from  the  lives  of  the  Martyrs  or  from 
some  similar  book  of  edification.  The  fratri 
sat  on  the  benches,  at  a  distance  of  more  than 
a  metro  apart,  and  in  front  of  each  was  a  com- 
plete set  of  all  the  very  plain  eating  and 
drinking  vessels  and  utensils  which  they  allow 
themselves  to  use  —  exactly  the  same  before 
everyone  and  never  removed  from  the  table. 
The  long  sides  of  the  hall  were  also  hung  with 
religious  pictures  and  busts  of  famous  members 
of  their  order — none  of  especial  interest  to  me, 
except  a  Crucifixion  by  Fra  Angelica.™  This  was 
wonderful.  The  impression  it  made  on  my 
soul  I  shall  never  lose. 

'The  Abate  could  not  speak  to  me  there  and 
then,  for,   by  the  rule,  one  brother   must   read 


aloud  during  the  meal  and  all  the  others  must 
be  silent.  But  when  this  was  over,  and  the 
padri  and  frati  had  gone  to  their  cells,  and  all 
was  still  in  the  house,  the  Superior  took  me 
again  into  the  Refettorio,  and  standing  in  front 
of  the  wonderful  Cenacolo  of  which  I  have 
spoken,  talked  to  me  beautifully  of  it  —  both  in 
an  artistic  and  in  a  religious  way.  Then  he 
led  me  into  the  garden,  and  brought  me  to  an 
arbor  at  the  farther  end,  where  he  was  accus- 
tomed, he  said,  to  sit  during  the  hotter  after- 
noons and  study  and  write.  We  sat  there  to- 
gether till  the  scampanata  [hurried  ringing]  of 
the  Convento  sounded  for  Vespers. 

'The  place,  the  hour,  my  errand,  and  my 
reception  —  all  conspired  to  make  it  seem  Para- 
dise to  me.  A  soft  breeze  swept  over  the  garden 
and  the  banks  of  flowers  and  the  sweet-scented 
shrubbery  and  through  the  lattice-work,  above 
and  around  us,  which  was  densely  covered  with 
climbing  roses  of  many  varieties.  All  was  beauty 
and  stillness;  and  the  perfumed  air,  the  murmur 
of  the  central  fountain,  and  the  faint  melodies  of 
flute  and  violin  which  were  wafted  to  us  from  the 
windows  of  the  Convento  (for  it  was  the  hour  when 
these  religiosi  allow  themselves  such  innocent  rec- 
reation), created  an  environment  into  the  like  of 
which  I  had  never  before  been  admitted.  I  was, 

315 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

in  fact,  almost  bewildered  by  the  exquisite  fasci- 
nation. 

'But  what  shall  I  say  of  the  conversation  of 
the  abate  ?  In  its  gentle  earnestness,  in  its  affec- 
tionate sweetness,  I  forgot  the  loveliness  of  the 
surroundings.  A  desert,  a  dungeon,  would  then 
have  seemed  to  me  Paradiso,  I  listened  —  as  Dante 
says  of  Virgilio  —  with  such  rapture  to  his  dis- 
course. He  talked  both  of  religion  and  of  the 
earthly  life,  and  even  —  would  you  believe  it  of 
the  old,  severe,  emaciated  ascetic  ?  —  he  talked 
with  the  tenderest  sympathy  of  human  passions 
and  youthful  love.  What  he  said  I  shall  never 
forget ;  it  is  engraved  on  my  memory  as  with  a 
pen  of  steel. 

'  Omitting  now  many  wise  and  beautiful  things 
which  he  said  of  love  and  marriage  —  which  I 
will  tell  you  at  another  time,  dearest  —  when  he 
came  to  speak  of  the  choice  of  a  wife,  he  began 
somewhat  like  this  :  "  My  son,  child  of  my  choic- 
est friend,  Francesco  Donati,  heir  of  that  princely 
name,  though  shorn,  in  the  Providence  of  God, 
by  the  wickedness  of  men,  of  their  ancient  for- 
tunes, listen  to  my  words.  Remember  that  they 
come,  not  only  from  your  true  friend,  and  your 
noble  father's  friend,  but  from  an  old  man  who 
has  seen  and  known  much  of  human  life,  in  every 
station,  from  the  king  to  the  beggar ;  and  who 
316 


OF  MARTIGNY 

for  scores  of  years  has  sat  in  the  stall  of  the  Con- 
fessor, and  heard  there,  from  the  privacies  of  ten 
thousand  lives,  unspeakable  things  which  it  is 
not  lawful  to  utter  into  any  ears  but  those  of 
the  Almighty." 

'  Then  he  proceeded  with  a  very  particular  and 
minute  yet  most  delicate  description  of  the  femi- 
nine qualities  of  both  mind  and  body  —  noting 
which  were  to  be  sought,  and  which  avoided.  He 
spoke  of  concordant  and  contrasted  peculiarities, 
of  stature,  complexion,  and  temperament  ;  and 
of  the  best  adjustment  of  these,  in  a  pair  per- 
fectly assorted  for  the  highest  felicity.  He  de- 
scribed many  signs  of  character,  in  the  tout  en- 
semble of  the  countenance,  in  the  particulars  of 
the  face,  the  brow,  the  nose,  the  lips,  the  chin, 
and  even  in  the  ears,  hands,  palms,  fingers,  etc., 
etc.,  and  told  ways  of  judging  in  regard  to  im- 
portant things  which  could  not  be  seen  nor 
spoken  of.  I  might  say,  in  short,  that  he  gave 
a  whole  science  of  testing  the  dispositions  of  the 
mind  and  the  constitution  of  the  body;  and  added 
many  wise  and  weighty  conclusions,  which  were 
the  fruit  of  much  reflection,  under  extraordinary 
opportunities  for'  observation. 

'  But  what  surprised  me  most  was  the  last  item 
of  his  counsel ;  and  this  was  also  the  point  on 
which  he  insisted  with  the  greatest  earnestness 

317 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

and  at  the  greatest  length.  It  was  after  he  had 
canvassed  the  whole  nature  of  woman,  and  sifted 
her  celestial  aptitudes,  and  opposite  disqualifica- 
tions, in  respect  to  marriage,  that  with  a  gentle 
laugh  he  quoted  the  words  which  Leopardi  puts 
in  the  mouth  of  Tasso  and  of  his  familiar  as  they 
converse  together  in  Tasso 's  cell  during  his  seven 
years'  imprisonment  at  the  Ospizio  di  Santa  Anna™ 

'The  substance  of  it  was  this  :  Tasso  says,  "Oh 
that  I  could  once  see  my  Leonora  again  !  Every 
time  she  comes  back  to  my  mind,  a  thrill  of  joy 
spreads  over  me,  from  the  crown  of  my  head  to 
the  tips  of  my  toes.  There  is  n't  a  nerve  or  vein 
in  me  that  does  not  quiver.  And  if  it  were  not 
that  I  have  no  more  hope  of  seeing  her  again, 
I  should  not  believe  that  I  have  yet  lost  the  fac- 
ulty of  being  happy." 

'  To  which  the  familiar  replies  :  "  Which  of  the 
two  things  do  you  consider  to  be  the  sweeter  :  to 
see  the  beloved  woman  or  to  think  of  her  ? " 

'  Tasso  replies  :  "  I  do  n't  know.  I  am  sure  that 
while  she  was  in  my  presence,  she  seemed  to 
me  a  woman ;  away,  she  seemed  and  seems  a 
goddess." 

'  The  genio  retorts :  "  These  goddesses  are  so 
obliging  that  when  one  comes  up  to  them,  in 
a  trice  they  fold  up  their  divinity,  detach  their 
effulgent  rays,  and  put  these  things  in  their 

318 


OF  MARTIGNY 

pocket,  so  as  not  to  dazzle  the  mortal  who 
places  himself  before  them." 

'  Tasso  replies :  "  You  speak  only  too  truly. 
But  does  n't  that  seem  to  you  a  great  sin  of 
the  ladies  that,  at  the  proof,  they  turn  out  for 
us  so  different  from  what  we  imagined  them  ? " 

'  The  genio  answers  :  "  I  am  not  able  to  see  that 
people  should  be  faulted  for  being  made  of  flesh 
and  blood,  rather  than  of  ambrosia  and  nectar. 
What  thing  in  the  world  has  a  thousandth  part 
or  even  a  shadow  of  the  perfection  which  you 
think  has  to  be  in  the  ladies  ?  And  yet  it  seems 
strange  to  me,  when,  of  course,  and  no  wonder, 
the  men  are  men,  that  is  to  say,  creatures  little 
praiseworthy  and  little  lovely,  you  then  cannot 
understand  how  it  happens  that  the  ladies  are, 
in  fact,  not  angels." 

'  After  this,  the  genial  old  abbot  rose,  and, 
taking  me  by  the  hand,  led  me  to  that  side  of 
the  arbor  which  was  the  most  profusely  over- 
hung with  roses,  in  every  stage  of  advance- 
ment, from  the  wilting  and  scattered  charms  of 
overpassed  maturity  to  the  scarcely  discernible 
opening  of  the  finest  bud.  Here  he  stopped, 
and,  turning  toward  me  with  an  expression  of 
mingled  anxiety  and  tenderness,  not  only  suf- 
fusing his  countenance,  but  overspreading  his 
whole  figure  and  bearing,  he  said,  for  substance 

319 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

(for  I  cannot  pretend  to  remember  every  one 
of  his  beautiful  and  exalted  words): 

"  My  son,  son  of  my  friend  of  such  revered 
memories,  heir  of  the  unknown  future  desti- 
nies of  a  most  noble  house,  what,  after  all,  are 
the  purity  and  perfections  of  the  body,  other- 
wise considered,  incomparably  important  —  what 
are  they  in  comparison  with  the  purity  and 
perfections  of  the  soul  ? " 

— "Nothing,  nothing,"  father,  I  said,  half 
under  my  breath,  and  looking  up  reverently 
into  his  stern  but  intellectual  face,  now  aglow 
with  earnest  and  tender  emotion. 

— "Whatever,  then,"  he  continued,  "may  be 
the  other  qualities  of  the  woman  (Iddio  bene- 
dicald]  [God  bless  her],  whom  you  would  take 
for  the  partner  of  your  life,  see  to  it,  above  all 
else,  that  she  comes  to  you  with  a  virgin  heart. 
Assure  yourself  beforehand,  beyond  question, 
that  the  affections  she  has  to  offer  you  are 
fresh  and  untried",  (and  plucking  a  cluster  of 
unopened  rose-buds,  as  he  handed  them  to  me 
he  added,)  "like  these  unfolded  buds." 

'I  received  them  in  respectful  silence,  and 
he  proceeded: 

— "  What  should  your  fresh,  innocent  soul  have 
to  do  with  the  gleaning  of  fields  where  others 
(whether  guileless  or  not),  have  harvested,  or 
320 


OF  MARTIGNY 

trampled  the  first  fruits  before  you?  What 
partnership  should  the  snowy  whiteness,  the 
unbounded  wealth,  the  infinite  yearnings  of 
noble,  untried  affection  contract  with  the  with- 
ered residue  which  time  has  left",  (stretching 
his  hand  toward  the  discolored  clusters  whose 
faded  petals  were  falling  in  showers  and  float- 
ing, on  the  inconstant  wings  of  the  zephyr,  to 
the  ground,  he  added,)  "like  these  past-blown 
roses,  once  indeed  the  joy  and  the  glory  of 
the  scene,  now  pouring  abroad  those  exhausted 
petals  which  have  attracted  the  notice  and  dis- 
played their  charms  to  a  thousand  passers  by, 
and  disbursed  their  fragrance  upon  a  thousand 
flying  breezes  ? " 

— "The  simile  is  striking,  father,"  I  said  in  a 
hesitating  tone,  not  wishing  to  seem  to  con- 
tradict, or  even  to  doubt  his  teaching,  though, 
I  confess,  I  was  not  then  so  fully  impressed 
with  the  truth  of  it. 

'He  observed  my  hesitation,  and  conjecturing 
rightly  the  cause,  replied:  • 

— "  It  is  true,  that  a  simile,  however  striking, 
is  no  element  of  proof,  as  I  think  you  meant 
to  say.  But,  notwithstanding,  the  doctrine  is  true. 
The  virgin  freshness  of  first  opening  love,  once 
unfolded  to  the  air  and  light  of  day,  can  never  be 
restored.  Once  dead  it  knows  no  resurrection." 

321 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

— "  Ah,  father,"  I  said  mournfully,  "  how  little, 
then,  there  must  be  in  the  world,  of  love  under 
its  best  conditions  !  " 

— "  Doubtless,"  he  replied,  "  the  confessor's 
seat  has  taught  me  that.  If  it  were  not  so, 
this  present  world,  poor  as  it  is,  would  be  a 
paradise  indeed." 

— "  It  is  much,  father,  to  hear  you  say  that, 
—  that  a  paradise  is  possible  here.  It  may, 
then,  be  mine." 

— "  Yes,  my  son,  thanks  to  God,  more  than 
this  is  possible.  For  I  will  not  deny  that  a 
heart  blasted  by  coquetry,  or  even  having  fal- 
len under  the  anathema  of  a  broken  vow,  may 
yet,  perhaps,  perform,  perfunctorily  at  least, 
and  with  an  honest  scrupulosity,  every  apparent 
office  of  the  united  life.  I  will  not  deny  that 
innocence  may  follow,  and  bring  with  itself  a 
certain  satisfaction  and  rest,  which,  by  the  mer- 
ciful law  of  heaven,  is  always  and  everywhere 
of  innocence  and  duty  the  exceeding  great  re- 
ward. But  this,  my  son,  is  a  lower  than  love's 
highest  benison.  It  is  at  its  best,  like  Dante  s 
discovery  concerning  the  second-rate  happiness 
of  the  inhabitants  of  the  Moon: 

4  Then  was  it  clear  to  me  how  everywhere 

In  Heaven,  is  Paradise;  though  yet  the  power 
Of  goodness  doth  not  in  one  measure  shower 
Always  its  highest  delectations  there'.31 
322 


OF  MARTI GNY 

"  But  why,  my  son,  stoop  to  the  lower  estate, 
when  the  highest  heaven  of  love  is  open  to 
your  possession  ?  Let,  then,  the  lips  which  are 
for  all  future  time  to  distil  away  your  griefs  be 
spotless  as  the  descending  snow,  of  any  former 
stain,  whether  of  folly  or  of  untruth.  Let  the 
bosom,  where  for  all  future  time  you  must  seek 
the  oblivion  of  your  cares  and  the  solace  for 
your  fatigues,  be  not  only  like  a  garden  where 
you  will  move  alone  in  the  peerless  fruitions  of 
love,  but  also  a  garden  whose  bloom  and  fra- 
grance has  not  been  ravished  by  bygone  blasts, 
has  not  been  opened  to  the  roaming  access  of 
preceding  approaches." 

"Some  of  this  talk  of  Luigi's  made  my  bosom 
flutter,  but  I  was  dazed  in  the  acquisition  of 
my  great  treasure  and  remained  silently  de- 
vouring the  dear  fellow  with  my  hungry  eyes. 

— 'Such  a  heart,'  he  continued,  'M'amie,  I 
know  I  have  found  —  and  what  is  more,  have 
acquired '  — 

— 'It  is — it  is  that';  I  interrupted,  'in  what- 
ever else  it  may  be  wanting.  If  my  poor  heart 
is  a  garden  it  is  yours,  dear  Luigi ;  and  I  swear 
to  you  by  the  Blessed  Virgin  that  it  has  never 
been  entered  nor.  approached  by  living  mortal 
before.' 

"He  did  n't  say  that  such  was  his;  how  could 

323 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

he  ?  But  he  came  nearer  to  the  mule,  and 
walking  close  at  my  side,  took  my  hand  in 
his,  brought  it  fervently  to  his  lips,  and  then 
returning  it  to  my  side,  still  held  it  in  his  own, 
as  we  went  on  for  a  time  in  silence." 


LONELY  TURN  IN   THE  ROAD  TO   MARTIGNY. 


324 


OF  MARTJGNY 


XXVIII. 

Not  two  miles  traveled  when  they  hear 

Such  rattling,  rumbling  danger  sound, 
As  made  the  encircling  woods  appear 

To  rock  and  tremble  far  around  ; 
And  quickly  rose  upon  the  sight, 

O'er  twinkling  stream  and  bush  and  tree, 
A  charger  housed  in  trappings  bright, 

And  dashing  onward  furiously.32 

ARIOSTO. 

((  A  S  he  discoursed  thus  and  we  moved  quietly 
/i.  along  toward  Martigny,  how  delightful 
had  the  way  and  the  whole  world  now  become 
to  me !  —  The  autumnal  sky  was  so  bright,  the 
breeze  was  so  soft,  the  trees  were  murmuring 
such  a  silvery  cadence,  in  reply  to  the  unceas- 
ing prattle  of  the  laughing  water  which  danced 
so  gaily  on  with  many  a  tumble  and  many  a 
frothy  whirl,  in  the  brook  at  our  side.  But 
above  all,  emparadising  all,  at  my  side  moved 
tall  and  handsome  Luigi,  noble  in  every  limb 
and  look,  and  yet  more  noble  in  soul  —  and .  he 
was  now  mine,  my  affianced  husband,  my  own 
forever  and  forever! — hallelujah! 

325 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

"  Such  a  load  of  joy,  such  a  blissful  transition 
from  my  late  distress  and  despair  to  this  miracle 
of  my  present  infinite  good  fortune,  was  almost 
too  much  for  my  poor,  overwrought  heart  to 
bear.  It  seemed  as  if  my  bosom  must  burst 
open  and  my  fluttering  heart  spread  its  wings 
in  the  upper  sky. 

"  I  suppose  Luigi  had  similar  feelings,  but  the 
outward  deportment  of  us  both  became  quiet  — 
very  quiet  indeed.  Now  and  then  we  spoke  of 
some  pleasant  thing  in  prospect ;  but  much  of 
the  time,  also,  we  were  silent  and  busy  with 
our  own  sweet  thoughts ;  often  and  often  Luigi 
came  nearer  and  pressed  my  hand  without 
speaking  a  word ;  and  then  sometimes  our  eyes 
met,  and  I  felt  a  thrill  like  the  bliss  of  Eden. 

"  Yet  boundlessly  happy  as  I  was,  there  was 
one  sore  spot  in  my  soul ;  and  when,  ever  and 
anon,  my  dancing  thoughts  struck  it,  I  was  com- 
pelled to  groan  within  myself  at  the  momentary 
yet  heart-cutting  pang.  These  moments  of  shud- 
dering pain  came  when  I  thought  of  Maria, — 
dear,  dear  Maria  —  the  shock  that  was  to  fall 
on  that  poor,  deceived,  deluded  heart  —  the 
storm  of  agony  that  was  about  to  burst  upon 
that  so  gentle,  so  loving,  so  trusting  creature  — 
the  cup  of  bitter  anguish  which,  all  without  her 
thought,  was  now  prepared  for  her  to  drink. 
326 


OF  MARTIGNY 

"  I  would  gladly  have  persuaded  myself  to  be- 
little her  coining  grief.  I  tried  to  think  of  every 
soothing  consideration  —  of  every  hopeful  relief 
—  of  any  possible  remedy.  But  I  could  discover 
nothing ;  I  could  invent  nothing.  The  cold, 
crushing  fact  remained.  It  could  not  be  miti- 
gated, and  it  could  not  be  exaggerated.  'She 
had  been  robbed  ! — waylaid  and  robbed,  robbed, 
robbed  —  of  her  heart's  treasure  —  her  hope  — 
her  life  —  her  all ! ' 

"I  could  not  doubt  that  she  had  regarded  Luigi's 
love  as  surely  and  securely  her  own.  'Was  she 
not,  probably,  at  this  moment,  reveling  in  rosy 
fancies,  never  to  be  realized?  Was  she  not  a 
victim  on  the  way  to  the  altar  decked  and  gar- 
landed for  the  sacrifice  ?  If,  under  every  disad- 
vantage, I  had  so  fully  and  so  far  built  the  whole 
superstructure  of  my  happiness  upon  it,  and  the 
thought  of  losing  it  had  desolated  my  future  with 
a  rayless  despair,  what,  with  everything  in  her 
favor,  must  not  she  have  done?  —  what  structures 
of  hope  must  she  not  have  reared !  —  and  how 
tremendous  might  be  the  consequences  of  their 
instant  collapse !  Would  she  probably  sink  in 
sickness  ?  —  Could  she  survive  it  ?  —  Might  she 
not,  perhaps,  become  a  maniac?  —  how  much 
less  than  a  fratricide  should  I  be  ? ' 

'  And  then  '  —  oh,   the   pang  !    momentary,  in- 

327 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

deed,  yet  ever  returning  to  stab  me,  again 
and  again,  in  the  most  sensitive  fibre  of  my 
heart  of  hearts  —  'what  of  my  Luigi  himself?' 
I  knew,  beyond  the  shadow  of  a  doubt,  that 
the  sentiment  of  duty  would  always  bind  his 
judgment  and  control  the  conduct  of  his  life. 
'  Had  he  not,  however,  confessed  that  he  loved 
Maria  ?  —  that  his  soul  had  embraced  hers  ? 
Was  his  a  heart  to  change  its  affections  in  a 
twinkling?  Was  it,  then,  to  be,  that  I  should, 
indeed,  possess  his  hand,  while  Maria  still  kept 
his  heart?  —  and  who  shall  say  it  did  not  belong 
to  her  ?  —  oh,  oh,  oh  ! ' 

"  But  in  the  midst  of  such  reflections  on  my 
part  and  of  much  silence  on  his,  suddenly,  we 
both  discerned  in  the  distance  before  us,  a 
horseman  coming  furiously  along  from  the  town. 
Very  soon  Luigi 's  sharp  eyes  recognized  the 
white  face  and  feet  of  the  largest  of  the  Count's 
saddle-horses,  and  a  little  later,  he  made  out  the 
tall  figure  of  the  waiting-man  who  had  attended 
him  while  he  lay  at  our  house.  Coming  on  at 
full  speed,  the  man  was  presently  so  near  as  to 
recognize  Luigi ;  and  then  drawing  up  suddenly, 
he  leapt  from  his  horse  and  came  running  toward 
us,  while  tne  trained  animal  trotted  gently  along 
in  the  track  of  his  rider.  Lifting  his  cap,  without 
further  salutation  and  holding  a  letter  in  his  out- 
328 


OF  MARTIGNY 

stretched  hand  before  him,  when  hardly  within 
reaching  distance,  he  began  : 

'//  Signer  Medico  sends  this  to  your  worship 
in  the  greatest  haste ;  and  I  am  to  mount  your 
worship  on  this  horse  and  myself  return  with 
the  mule.' 

— •  Has  something  happened,  then  ? '  exclaimed 
Litigi,  in  a  tone  of  much  concern,  while  my  poor 
heart  began  to  palpitate  furiously. 

— '  I  do  n't  know  what  it  is,'  said  the  man.  A 
messagio,  in  a  green  and  silver  livery,  came  this 
morning  from  Leuk,  bringing  a  letter  to  /'/  Signor 
Medico  ;  and  very  quickly  after,  I  was  sent  in  all 
haste  to  bring  your  worship  back.' 

"  Luigi,  receiving  the  letter,  examined  the  su- 
perscription a  moment,  then  opened  and  perused 
it  in  silence.  But  I  saw,  with  increased  anxiety, 
that  his  hands  trembled  violently,  and  the  color 
came  and  went  on  his  face,  and  his  brow  wore  a 
look  that  was  new  and  strange  to  me. 

"When  he  had  glanced  through  the  lines,  he 
lifted  his  eyes,  and  looking  far  along  the  road 
toward  the  town,  said  to  the  man  : 

'  Do  you  remember,  Felice,  the  old  beech-tree, 
just  beyond  that  farthest  turn  in  the  road, 
where  the  chair-rock  is  and  there  is  a  little  fall 
in  the  brook  ? ' 

— '  Si,  Signor,  I  know  the  place,'  said  Felice. 

329 


HE    TWIN  SISTERS 

— 'Well,'  said  Luigi,  'go  forward  thither  with 
the  horse,  and  wait  till  we  come  up.  We  won't 
be  long  after  you.' 

"  Felice  remounted  and  in  another  moment  was 
out  of  hearing  ;  and  then  Luigi  read  the  letter  to 
me.  It  was  from  his  uncle  and  enclosed  the  reply 
of  the  Governnient  to  the  petition  for  a  reprieve 
from  the  barracks.  The  substance  of  the  answer 
was,  that  '  upon  his  returning  to  Mantova  and  re- 
porting to  the  Military  bureau  there,  and  receiv- 
ing the  allotment  of  his  regiment,  etc.,  and  sign- 
ing his  solemn  parola  that  he  would  not  leave  the 
country,  and  at  the  end  of  twenty-four  months 
would  report  for  duty,  he  should  receive  (out  of 
regard  to  the  special  recommendation  which  the 
Government  had  received  for  him)  a  furlough 
from  the  barracks  for  that  time.  But  his  seven 
years  of  active  service  would  begin  from  the  day 
of  entering  the  barracks ;  and  a  breach  of  the 
parola  is  punishable  with  death.' 

"  The  good  Medico  said  in  his  note  that  the  en- 
closed paper  had  been  that  moment  received,  and 
that  the  messenger  had  been  dispatched  with  it, 
on  the  back  of  Adolpho  the  swift,  in  the  hope  of 
overtaking  him  before  reaching  his  destination 
and  perhaps  the  using  of  some  expressions  or 
even  making  some  promises  which,  under  the 
new  circumstances,  he  might  afterward  regret, 

330 


OF  MARTIGNY 

or  find  it  hard  to  fulfill.  'At  least,'  the  uncle 
went  on  to  say,  '  I  thought  you  would  prefer  to 
return  and  reflect  and  consult,  before  completing 
the  purpose  of  your  visit  ;  and  I  shall  be  await- 
ing you  during  the  day,  to  give  some  further 
informations  which  I  have  received  from  other 
quarters,  and  to  help  by  the  best  counsel  I  can 
command,  in  view  of  the  various  aspects  in  which 
your  difficulties  and  advantages  may  be  viewed.' 

'  I  must,  of  course,'  said  Luigi,  '  respond  at 
once  to  this  invitation  of  Uncle.  I  must  meet 
him  as  speedily  as  possible.  I  must  get  his 
counsel,  for  really  I  do  not  know  what  is  best 
to  be  done.' 

— '  Ah,  Luigi,'  .1  exclaimed,  '  that  dreadful  pa- 
rola! — you  must  n't  give  it — never — never  give 
it.  If  you  should  ever  go  —  if  you  were  found 
one  metro  beyond  the  line  —  if  your  father  or 
your  wife  were  dying  —  or  if  your  clock  were 
wrong  —  or  if  you  forgot  —  and  should  be  one 
hour  behind  in  reporting  —  oh,  horror  of  hor- 
rors!— the  punishment  is  death! — death!  Luigi. 
They  will  lead  you  out  and  shoot  you  !  —  Oh, 
Luigi,  Luigi!  —  never,  never  do  it!' 

— '  But  we  could  live  together  in  love  and 
peace  for  two  years,'  he  said,  mournfully. 

— '  How  could  it  be  peace,  on  such  condi- 
tions?' I  said. 

33i 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

— '  We  could  keep  the  cottage  and  the  land 
and  comfort  each  other  and  be  a  great  solace 
to  dear  old  Padre]  he  said. 

— '  For  two  years,'  I  cried,  with  impatience 
and  grief,  '  and  what  then  ? ' 

— 'If  my  Padre  should  still  live,'  he  said,  'you 
could  take  care  of  him;  and  if  the  barracks 
were  in  Mantova,  I  could  often  have  an  hour  or 
two  with  you  and  often  a  Sunday.' 

— '  But  more  likely  by  far,'  I  groaned,  '  your 
regiment  would  be  quartered  elsewhere,  God 
knows  whether  in  Austria,  Hungary,  or  Poland.' 

"  He  did  n't  reply,  but  we  were  now  come  up 
to  Felice  who  was  awaiting  us  with  the  bridle 
on  his  arm  and  the  stirrup  in  his  hand.  Luigi 
said  to  me  in  a  loud  and  cheerful  tone: 

'  Now  Marttetta,  Felice  will  attend  you  and 
bring  you  to  the  hotel  with  a  gentle  gait. 
We  '11  talk  over  everything  there  together  and 
with  Uncle.' 

"  Then  beckoning  to  Felice  to  bring  the  horse 
nearer,  he  exchanged  places  with  him,  sprang 
into  the  saddle,  and  kissing  his  hand  to  me, 
saying: 

'Ecco  la  mia  parola  a  Lei !  [Here  is  my  parole 
to  you],  he  started  off  with  a  gallop  and  was 
almost  in  a  twinkling  out  of  sight. 

"  O  Santa  Maria  !  pity  me,  pity  me  !  —  Ecco  la 

332 


OF  MARTIGNY 

mta  parola  a  Lei !  —  these  were  the  last  words  I 
ever  heard  him  speak.  If  ever  they  are  veri- 
fied, will  it  be  in  Paradisol  While  they  still 
rung  in  my  ears,  he  passed  around  a  turn  in 
the  road,  and  —  Oh,  Dio  in  cielo  '  —  when  I  saw 
him  next,  his  arm  was  clasped  around  Maria, 
and  they  both  were  flying,  swift  as  the  wind, 
forever,  forever,  from  me. 

"Felice,  at  the  words  of  Luigi,  committing  me 
to  his  care,  made  a  berretta  [cap-salutation]  in 
silence  and  took  up  his  station  behind  the  mule 
where  he  remained  as  we  moved  slowly  on. 

"  When  Luigi  was  gone,  though  I  expected  to 
meet  him  again  within  an  hour,  a  sentiment  of 
unutterable  sadness  came  over  me.  My  spirits 
which  for  the  last  hour  had  lifted  me  to  the 
highest  heaven  of  earthly  felicity,  now  carried 
me  down  to  the  nadir  of  moral  depression.  I 
busied  my  uneasy  thoughts  by  contemplating 
the  conditions  of  the  offered  parola.  I  tried  to 
look  at  it  wisely  and  unselfishly  and  especially 
in  every  favorable  light.  But  in  fact,  the  more 
carefully  I  considered  it  the  more  alarming  the 
prospect  became.  He  might  be  tenderly  nursed 
for  a  few  short  months  towards  recovery  and 
vigor ;  but  I  was  sure  it  would  be,  only  to  be 
afterward  offered  up  a  precious  sacrifice  to 
horrid  Bellona ;  and  then  to  leave  a  widow 

333 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

crushed  with  sorrow,  and  perhaps  dependent 
orphans  to  drag  out  a  whole  life  of  desolation 
and  distress. 

'What  a  career,'  I  thought,  'would  his  dear 
life  have  been?  —  begun  in  motherless  sorrow 
—  pursued  in  a  continual  struggle  with  destiny 
—  closed  at  the  opening  bloom  of  love  and 
domestic  joys,  by  a  pitiful  martyrdom  !  —  Alas, 
the  dear,  dear  fellow! — it  was  pitiful,  so  pitiful.' 

"  I  could  not  endure  to  think  of  it.  I  burst 
into  uncontrollable  sobs,  and  the  hot  tears 
poured  over  my  face.  Felice  came  immediately 
to  the  side  of  the  mule,  and  with  cap  under 
his  arm,  and  with  a  very  solemn  face  and 
mournful  voice,  said: 

— '  O  Signorina,  Signorina,  che  cosa  ha  ? '  [O 
dear  Lady,  dear  Lady,  what  is  her  trouble  ?] 

— 'Non  importa  molto,  Felice '  [Nothing  of  much 
consequence],  I  said. 

— '  St,  si,'  he  replied,  '  Ella  sta  solitaria  e  timida 
ma  Felice  e"  forte  e  fidele.'  [Yes,  yes,  she  is  lonely 
and  afraid,  but  Felice  is  strong  and  faithful.] 

— 'No,  no,  Felice,'  I  said,  'it  is  not  that.  I 
am  not  lonely,  nor  afraid.' 

'  Ogni  donnettina  sta  sempre  ben  timida '  [  every 
nice  little  lady  is  always  much  afraid],  he  re- 
plied. lLa  mia  Signora  la  Contessa,  is  very  timid 
when  she  rides  in  the  country,  if  our  Padrone, 

334 


OF  MARTIGNY 

the  Signer  Conte,  is  not  along.  Often  and  often 
when  the  coachman  is  on  his  box  and  the  foot- 
man has  mounted  to  his  seat,  la  Contessa  makes 
him  dismount  and  run  and  get  me  to  come 
and  sit  with  the  driver  in  his  stead,  and  as 
soon  as  ever  I  come  to  the  carriage,  la  mia 
donnettina  [my  dear  little  lady],  says  to  me: 
'  Come  Felice,  il  mio  guardiano  [  my  bodyguard  ], 
get  thee  on  the  box  with  Stefano.  My  heart 
beats  so  fast  to-day.  I  forebode  some  danger 
or  accident.  I  shall  be  calm  when  I  see  thee 
there.  I  trust  to  thee  next  to  /'/  mio  Signer 
Marito  il  Conte.'  Oh,  never  fear  mia  Signorettina, 
I  will  go  here  close  at  her  side.  Ecco,  ecco! 
[look,  look]. 

•'  With  the  word,  he  lifted  his  casacca  di  fus- 
tagno  [long  fustian  waistcoat],  showed  two 
great  pistole  d'  arcione  [horse-pistols],  and  a 
huge  sheath-knife  hung  in  his  belt.  I  had  not 
thought  of  fear  before.  I  had  often  passed 
over  this  highway  alone,  and  had  never  heard 
of  any  robberies  or  dangers  there  for  any- 
body, at  least  in  broad  day.  I  believed  now 
that  Felice's  words  were  only  empty  talk.  Yet 
in  spite  of  myself,  the  sight  of  these  grim 
weapons,  and  the  excited  looks  of  the  dusky 
giant  who  wore  them,  standing  so  near  me,  and 
the  remembrance  of  the  crooked  way  through 

335 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

a  lonely  valley,  a  little  way  before  us,  filled 
my  heart,  already  so  worried  and  worn,  with 
fear,  indeed. 

"But  this  fear,  which  became  a  terror  greater 
than  I  had  ever  felt  in  all  my  life  before,  did 
not  come  from  any  prospect  of  dangers  from 
roaming  robbers  or  highwaymen,  which  seemed 
to  me  practically  impossible ;  but  rather  (and 
I  could  not  but  feel  they  were  real),  from  far 
others  which  lay  in  the  character  of  my  so- 
called  guard. 

"  He  was  absolutely  unknown  to  me,  and  not 
much  better  to  Luigi ;  who,  in  his  excitement 
and  anxiety,  I  thought,  might  have  failed  to 
remember  this.  Nor  did  we  know  how  much, 
or  how  little,  the  Uncle,  even,  knew  of  his 
antecedents. 

"  The  fact  stood,  that  I  was  absolutely  in  his 
power.  I  could  n't  but  think:  'What  might  not 
such  an  opportunity  tempt  this  giant  monster 
to  do !  Who  would  ever  know  what  had  hap- 
pened?— or  what  had  become  of  me?  He  could 
throw  me  into  the  chink  of  a  glacier,  a  chilo 
deep  —  and  the  mule  into  another  —  and  make 
up  a  story  about  robbers  —  or  about  me  —  that 
I  had  run  away  with  another  man  —  gone, 
probably,  to  America — or  he  might  go  to  Ameri- 
ca himself  —  or  enlist  with  a  false  name  in  the 

336 


OF  MARTIGNY 

army,  and  never  be  seen  or  heard  of  again.' 
My  heart  began  to  flutter  and  I  was  in  an 
agony  of  terror. 

'•'•Felice  rattled  on  praising  his  prowess.  He 
entered  now  upon  a  description  of  a  terrible 
scene,  a  few  miles  outside  of  Naples;  where 
four  malandrini  [roughs  or  highwaymen],  who 
were  really  escaped  convicts,  sprang  from  a  con- 
cealment at  the  roadside,  and  surrounded  the 
coach  in  which  his  mistress  the  Countess  and 
her  two  young  lady  daughters  were  riding. 

'  They  tore  the  reins,'  said  he,  '  from  the 
trembling  hands  of  the  driver,  unhitched  the 
traces  from  the  carriage,  stripped  the  coach- 
man and  footman  and  dressed  themselves  in 
their  clothes,  throwing  their  own  discarded 
prison-rig  to  the  poor  naked  fellows  to  put 
on  if  they  chose  (which  of  course  they  dare 
not  do),  then  they  robbed  the  ladies  of  their 
purses,  jewels,  rings,  and  every  movable  thing, 
turning  their  pockets  inside  out,  leaving  them 
half  dead  with  fright  and  terrible  expectations, 
sitting  abiti  disordinati  [tumbled  and  tousled]  in 
the  empty  carriage,  which  the  villains  had 
drawn  aside  behind  a  broken  cliff,  where,  with 
the  horses,  their  prisoners  and  booty,  they  were 
out  of  sight  from  the  beaten  track  of  the  road. 

'  At  that  very  moment,  itself,  by  the  goodness 
337 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

of  heaven,  I  came  then  around  a  sudden  turn  of 
the  way.  I  was  flying  on  the  back  of  'Dolfotto, 
having  been  unexpectedly  sent  by  my  master  to 
recall  the  ladies,  because  a  noble  stranger  had 
arrived  from  Francia  whom  it  was  important  for 
them  to  meet,  though  his  stay  was  limited  to  the 
two  or  three  hours  during  which  the  passing 
steamer  on  which  he  came  would  delay  al  sbar- 
catojo  [in  the  harbor]. 

'  I  was  passing  at  a  gallop,  for  the  padrone's  last 
words  were,  "Giuseppe,  thou  hast  Adolf o,  show  thy 
metal  and  his."  At  the  instant,  I  heard  a  woman's 
moan,  followed  by  a  volley  of  course  blasphemy 
commanding  silence.  I  looked  down  and  saw  on 
the  ground  the  marks  of  a  scuffle  and  a  trail  lead- 
ing away  to  the  spot. 

'  To  leap  from  'Fotto  and  have  flown  around  the 
cliff,  was  the  work  of  two  seconds.  What  a  sight ! 
—  The  ladies  clasped  in  each  others'  arms,  kiss- 
ing one  another  and  weeping  in  silence  !  —  all  in 
the  empty,  unhorsed  carriage  !  —  the  poor,  naked 
fellows  crouched  on  the  ground  beneath  and 
trembling  like  olive  leaves  in  the  wind !  —  The 
four  ribaldi — two  bareheaded  with  our  long  liv- 
ery coats  on,  and  two  uncoated  but  hatted  and 
breeched  with  our  livery,  having  distributed  as 
best  they  might  between  them  the  spoils  of  our 
coachman  and  footman  —  were  squatted  on  the 

338 


OF  MARTIGNY 

ground  with  their  backs  towards  me,  wholly  ab- 
sorbed in  their  quarrel  over  the  division  of  the 
gold  taken  from  the  ladies'  purses,  which  lay 
empty  on  the  ground  between  them. 

'  Ella  [the  lady]  may  be  sure  that  I  used  these 
weapons  lively,  and  with  such  effect  that  the 
scoundrels  did  not  get  on  their  feet  again,  till 
we  had  pretty  roughly  replevied  our  property 
and  with  the  little  aid  of  the  ladies  returned 
them  bound  to  the  serjants  of  the  law.  I  sup- 
pose they  are  more  useful  now  in  the  mines  of 
Sicily. —  But,  ola  !  —  who  comes  here  ? ' 

"  I  looked  up  and  saw  a  strange-looking  fellow 
emerging  round  a  turn  in  the  road  not  a  hundred 
steps  in  front  of  us.  He  was  coming  on  a  dog- 
trot, and  held  a  coil  of  small  rope  in  his  left  hand. 
His  clothes  were  a  semi-mixture  of  flashy  civilian 
and  military  undress,  and  he  carried  pistols  and 
knife  in  his  belt.  His  head  was  surmounted  by 
a  black  woolen  hat  with  a  broad  brim  and  a  black 
plume  drooping  low  on  one  side.  Huge  boots 
came  far  above  his  knees,  and  from  the  once 
white  but  now  soiled  tops  hung  tassels  once 
gilt,  now  equally  faded  and  soiled.  He  wore 
gauntlet-shaped  gloves  and  carried  in  his  right 
hand  a  heavy  polished  cane. 

"When  within  a  few  steps  he  stopped,  removed 
his  chapeau  and  saluted  me  with  several  profound 

339 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

bows,  bringing  his  head  at  each  inflection  almost 
into  contact  with  the  stupendous  boot-tops.  Then 
flourishing  his  bonnet  in  a  very  extraordinary  and 
telling  manner,  he  said  to  me  —  Felice  had  stopped 
the  mule  when  we  came  abreast  — 

'  Prego  molto  !  —  la  Signora  melo  perdonera  —  ho  due 
parole  da  dire  col  suo  staffiere'  [I  beg  the  lady  will 
pardon  it,  but  I  must  have  a  few  words  with  her 


"Then  taking  Felice's  arm,  who  stood  silent, 
and,  as  I  thought,  not  at  all  surprised,  he  led 
him  a  short  distance  aside,  and  began  in  a  low 
tone  an  animated  conversation  filled  with  excited 
gestures  on  both  sides,  with  occasional  references 
to  the  rope. 

"  I  could  not  catch  the  drift  of  their  discourse, 
for  it  was  only  occasional  words  spoken  in  a  higher 
tone  that  I  could  make  out,  and  of  these,  some 
were  in  a  patois  such  as  I  had  never  heard 
before.  But  I  caught  la  femminetta  many  times, 
and  such  phrases  as  : 

''Ella  non  pub''  —  '  Essa  sta  modestissima'  —  '/<z 
sua  vita  disonorata  '  [She  cannot  —  She  is  ex- 
tremely modest  —  her  disgraced  life],  etc.  I 
knew  they  were  talking  of  me,  and  my  imag- 
ination filled  out  the  sentences  with  a  fearful 
meaning. 

"  The  parley  was  soon  ended.     Felice  returned, 

340 


OF  MARTIGNY 

and  taking  the  mule  by  the  bridle,  said  to  me, 
with  a  respectful  touch  of  his  cap  : 

'  Questo  e  di  necessita,  molto  necessario,  mia  Signorina 
buona '  [This  is,  of  necessity,  very  necessary, 
my  good  little  lady]. 

"Without  saying  more,  he  turned  the  beast 
around  and  began  leading  it  back  toward  my 
home.  I  was  dumb  and  powerless  with  fright. 
The  stranger  followed  in  silence  behind  us. 
When  we  came  to  the  rock  from  which  I  had 
started,  he  turned  into  the  by-path  and  led  us 
away  from  the  road  further  than  I  had  ever 
been  before.  We  passed  my  old  seat  on  the 
left  hand  and  penetrated,  by  a  winding  path, 
into  the  dense  firs  and  undergrowth,  gradually 
ascending  the  mountain,  till  we  came  to  a  kind 
of  grotto  which  had  a  mossy  bank  like  a  bed, 
and  was  thickly  overhung.  Then  he  said  a  few 
words  in  patois  to  Felice,  who  came  to  my  side, 
and  making  a  berretta,  as  always,  said: 

'  Prego,  Signorina,  Ella  debbe  scender  adesso  dal 
mulo!  [Pardon,  the  lady  now  must  dismount 
and  go  from  the  mule]. 

"From  the  moment  the  mule  wras  turned 
about,  I  was  so  astonished  and  confused  that  I 
had  not  spoken  a  word,  and  now  I  was  so 
frightened  that  I  made  no  resistance,  when  he 
stretched  out  his  great  arms  and  took  me,  like 

341 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

a  baby,  from  the  saddle.  Preceded  and  guided 
by  the  stranger,  he  carried  me  quickly  into 
the  grotto,  and  laying  me  gently  on  the  mossy 
couch,  spread  a  shawl  over  me  very  cavalierly. 
Then  I  heard  him  lead  the  mule  away  through 
the  crackling  bushes,  till  the  sound  died  away  in 
the  distance.  The  stranger  did  not  come  into 
the  grotto,  but  remained  just  outside,  where, 
as  I  lay,  I  could  see  his  gigantic  bulk  passing 
solemnly  to  and  fro  before  the  entrance. 

"When  Felice  returned,  the  two  men  stood 
for  some  minutes  conversing  together  in  a  low 
tone  and  in  a  strange  patois,  sometimes  turn- 
ing to  look  or  gesticulate  towards  me,  of  whom 
I  was  perfectly  sure  they  were  talking.  I 
thought  Felice  said  something  which  meant : 

— '  How  dare  you  ? '  To  which  the  stranger 
replied : 

— '  I  will  risk  it.' 
"Then  I  thought  Felice  said: 
— 'What  if  you  were  caught  with  her?' 
"I  could  make  nothing  out  of  the  rather  long 
reply,  into  which   there   entered  much  gesticu- 
lating and  the  drawing  and  brandishing  of  the 
weapons.    But  I  surely  understood  Felice  at  last 
saying: 

— '  What  then  will  become  of  her  ? ' 
"  Without  making  any  reply,  the  giant  stranger 

342 


turned  and  came  in,  and,  kneeling  down  before 
me,  said  in  a  half  intelligible  patois: 

— '  She  will  go  with  me  —  she  will  not  fear  — 
do  so  in  Tirolo — the  contadine  [country-women] 
like  it.' 

"  I  was  paralyzed  with  fright;  and  as  in  a 
nightmare,  I  could  not  speak  a  word.  The 
stranger,  however,  did  not  wait  for  a  reply, 
but  immediately  rose  from  his  knees  and  pro- 
ceeded to  undo  the  coil  of  rope,  winding  it,  as 
he  did  so,  around  me  from  my  feet  to  my 
shoulders,  leaving  my  arms  free.  Then  he 
kneeled  backward  and  fastened  the  rope  to 
himself  in  such  a  way  that  as  he  rose  he 
carried  me  with  him  on  his  back.  To  steady 
myself  I  instinctively  grasped  the  rope  where 
it  passed  over  his  shoulders,  and  so  I  rode  out 
of  the  grotto  whither  and  to  what  fate  —  what 
must  I  think? 

"Issuing  from  the  grotto,  and  flinging  a  few 
words  more  of  patois  at  Felice,  which  I  did  not 
in  the  least  understand,  and  throwing  one  of 
his  great  arms  back  around  me,  he  started 
rapidly  up  the  woody  mountain-side,  through 
thick  underbrush  which  made  me  hide  my  face 
under  the  shelter  of  his  great  shoulders,  and 
which  would  have  torn  me  and  my  clothes  to 
tatters  if  they  had  not  been  closely  bound  down. 

343 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

"When,  at  last,  we  emerged  into  an  open 
place  —  it  was  a  dark  and  dreadful  spot  — 
he  stopped.  He  was  panting  audibly,  and  my 
whole  body  rose  and  fell,  as  on  a  wave  of  the 
sea,  with  his  every  breath.  But  he  did  not  lay 
down  his  load. 

"  I  remained  in  instant  expectation  of  every- 
thing and  anything;  and  the  time  he  stood 
there  seemed  to  me  an  eternity.  I  could  not 
escape,  I  dared  not  speak  or  move,  and  all 
around  was  still. 

"  Suddenly  there  came  a  sound  of  many 
horses'  feet  clattering  on  the  road;  and  inter- 
mingled with  the  steady  and  increasing  noise 
of  the  horse-hoofs,  and  with  the  intermitting 
roar  of  the  tree-tops,  seemed  to  rise  the  mur- 
mur of  many  excited  voices.  Louder  and 
nearer  and  clearer  every  moment  the  alarming 
uproar  became.  Was  it  an  army,  an  avalanche 
of  men  and  horses,  sweeping  on  to  overwhelm 
us?  But  nothing  appeared.  After  a  few  mo- 
ments of  suspense,  agony,  and  terror,  the  up- 
roar began  to  decline,  the  sounds  became  less 
and  less  distinct,  and  gradually  faded  away,  till 
all  but  the  unending  song  of  the  forest  had 
died  again  into  silence. 

After  the  stillness  had  lasted  for  a  short 
space,  a  shrill  whistle  echoed  among  the  rocks 

344 


OF  MAR  TIG  NY 

and  bushes  and  was  answered  by  another  from 
my  giant  guard  or  jailer  (I  knew  not  which  he 
was),  who  immediately  started  to  descend  the 
mountain  again;  and  the  same  experience  as 
before  was  undergone  by  me  on  the  passage. 

"Arrived  at  the  grotto,  we  found  Felice  and 
the  mule  waiting  for  us  there.  I  was  quickly 
transferred  from  the  back  of  the  giant  to  that 
of  the  mule,  having  been  delivered  from  my 
mummy-bonds  during  the  transition.  The  office 
of  the  giant  seemed  now  to  have  been  finished 
and  he  ceased  from  further  attentions  to  me. 
After  a  few  hurried  words  with  Felice  (which 
were  unintelligible  to  me),  spoken  while  he 
was  recoiling  his  rope,  he  made,  precisely  as 
when  he  first  arrived,  a  profound  inchino,  then 
a  salutation  di  cappello,  and  then  with  an  em- 
phatic ' addio  a  Lei'  [adieu  to  Her],  he  quickly 
turned  and  went  off  "with  God,"  falling  into 
a  sort  of  dog-trot,  and  in  a  few  seconds  had 
disappeared. 

"  I  was  now  again  in  the  hands  of  Felice, 
badly  frightened  indeed,  but  unhurt.  He  began 
at  once  to  lead  the  mule  down  to  the  road 
again,  but  without  a  word  of  inquiry  or  expla- 
nation, instead  of  taking  up  again  our  journey 
toward  the  town,  he  turned  backward  and  led 
on  toward  my  home. 

345 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

"  I  was  too  much  confused  with  wonder  and 
uncertainty  at  this  as  well  as  at  all  that  had 
happened  to  make  any  resistance  or  enquiry  at 
first,  but  after  we  had  moved  on  in  silence  for 
many  minutes,  I  at  last  recovered  strength  and 
courage  enough  to  call  Felice  back  to  my  side 
and  say: 

— 'What  does  all  this  mean,  Felice  T 

— '  Ah,  la  Signorinaj  he  replid,  '  she  must  not 
ask  Felice.  He  does  n't  know  anything.  // 
Signer  Luigi  will  tell  her.' 

— '  But  who  was  that  strange  man  ? '  I  asked. 

— '//  Signore  will  tell  her,'  he  replied. 

— '  But  why  are  we  going  home,'  I  persisted, 
'and  not  doing  as  we  were  ordered  by  him?' 

— '  Questo  %  anche  commandato '  [this  too,  is  com- 
manded], he  answered. 

"  Nothing  more  was  said,  and  in  silence  we 
climbed  along  the  road  toward  my  home.  My 
busy,  restless  thoughts  leapt  forward  and  dwelt 
upon  the  evening  when  Luigi  would  have  re- 
turned to  me;  and  I  consoled  myself  with  the 
prospect  of  the  pleasure  it  would  be  to  hear  it 
all  from  his  own  dear  lips.  But  the  promise  of 
Felice  was  not  fulfilled.  '//  Signore'  never  had 
the  opportunity  to  reveal  to  me  the  mystery  of 
these  strange  events.  Whether  on  meeting  a 
detachment  of  French  troops  going  to  guard 

346 


OF  MARTIGNY 

the  Holy  Father  at  Rome,  Luigi  had  sent  back 
to  shield  me  from  the  shock  of  passing  them 
(really  no  trifling  affair  for  a  girl  like  me,  and 
especially  in  the  then  so  feeble  state  of  my 
nerves);  or  whether  the  troop  was  a  recruited 
squad  on  the  way  to  join  the  Austrian  army  in 
Lombardia ;  whether,  perhaps,  Felice  were  an 
escaped  conscript,  and  would  hazard  a  recogni- 
tion and  even  some  insult  might  befall  me,  if 
found  in  his  company;  whether  the  stranger 
were  a  f ellow  -  fugitive  with  Felice,  or  some 
friendly  officer  or  bravo  even ;  —  these  and 
many  other  possibilities  and  conjectures  were 
never  satisfactorily  cleared  up,  and  the  mys- 
tery has  always  remained. 

"What  is  certain  is,  that  after  accompanying 
me  to  my  home,  Felice  immediately  set  out 
with  the  mule  on  his  return.  The  mule  wan- 
dered back  to  the  hotel  during  the  night,  with- 
out his  driver,  or  any  marks  of  his  fate  or 
flight,  and  he  was  never  afterwards  heard  from. 
Luigi's  parola  to  me,  alas,  was  but  too  sadly  ful- 
filled. 


347 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 


XXIX. 

.     .     .     .     My  theme 


Has  died  into  an  echo ;     .     .     .     ." 

CHILDE  HARROLD,  4,  185. 

((  TT  was  long  after  midday  when  I  arrived  at 
1  home  with  Felice.  Maria  was  in  the  pas- 
tures. Babbo  soon  came  from  his  trip  to  the 
Hospice.  When  he  had  finished  his  chocolate 
and  bread,  I  cuddled  at  his  side  and  told  him 
all  my  story.  The  tears  of  the  dear  old  man 
dropped  many  times  on  my  head,  and  he  drew 
me  again  and  again  to  his  bosom.  When  I  was 
done,  he  said  : 

'  M'amie,  Luigi,  I  trust,  is  a  good  youth,  and 
I'm  glad  for  thee,  if  thou  shalt  be  happy,  and  I 
believe  thou  wilt  be.  Thy  mother  and  I  were 
happy  together.  You,  my  dear  girls,  are  a 
sweet  solace  to  me.  But  since  she  has  gone,  I 
may  say  that  I  live  no  longer.  I  only  work 
and  sleep,  and  go  on  my  way  alone,  waiting  till 
my  time  shall  come  to  follow  her.  Yes,  every 
woman  must  have  a  husband's  strong  arm  to 

348 


OF  MARTIGNY 

encircle  her  timid  and  fluttering  heart,  while 
her  soft  arms  hang  about  his  rejoicing  neck. 
In  the  struggles  and  sorrows  that  none  can 
avoid,  his  hairy  breast  is  her  bulwark  of  peace, 
and  her  soft  bosom  the  pillow  for  his  tired  and 
worried  head.  Iddio  has  willed  it  to  be  so;  and 
otherwise,  there  is  no  happiness  in  this  world. 
Therefore  I  rejoice  for  thee. 

'  But,  M  'amie,  I  mourn  that  it  will  take  thee  so 
far  from  me  —  perhaps,  thou  sayest,  even  over 
the  sea  —  to  free  and  rich  America.  Bright  sto- 
ries, indeed,  are  told  of  that  wonderful  country, 
but,  M'arme,  there  must  be  another  side.  There's 
no  perfection  anywhere.  There's  compensation 
and  loss  everywhere,  here  below.  I  do  n't  know 
what  it  is  there  ;  but  I  know  and  thou  knowest, 
that  there  is  a  reverse  to  every  picture.  I  should 
never,  never  behold  thee,  again  ;  and  besides,  I 
should  have  deep  forebodings  for  thee  there. 

'Perhaps,  thou  sayest,  thou  wilt  go  to  sunny 
Italy  —  to  the  vine-clad  hills  of  Mantova  and  the 
green  banks  of  the  Po.  Dear,  dear  country !  It 
would  be  an  earthly  paradise  to  me.  For  thee, 
it  will  be  more.  Thou  wilt  be  the  brightest 
sunbeam  there  to  the  other  Babbo  —  happy  man! 

'  True,  Maria  will  be  with  me  here  still  — 
poor  thing!  —  and  be  my  comfort — my  only 
comfort  —  while  I  stay.  But  how  she'll  miss 

349 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

thee  !  —  and  when  I  go  !  —  ah ,  my  child  !  —  and 
the  summons  must  come  soon  —  what  will  that 
tender  lambkin  do?  Go  to  her  now  —  and  tell 
her  all  —  and  comfort  her  —  thou  canst  do  it 
best  —  before  thy  betrothed  returns — he'll  then 
absorb  thy  time.' 

"  I  obeyed  at  once,  and  went  rapidly  along 
to  seek  Maria,  towards  the  Upper  Meadow.  I 
passed  now  for  the  first  time  since  the  acci- 
dent had  occurred  to  the  young  man  and  these 
great  events  had  transpired  in  our  home,  over 
the  foot-path  where  Sister  and  I  from  our 
earliest  recollection  had  so  often  trod.  How 
familiar  was  every  metro  of  the  ground,  every 
rock  and  bush  and  turn!  Yet,  what  was  that 
strange  glamour  now  overspreading  them  all  ? 
It  was  as  if  I  were  moving  in  a  dream.  I  knew 
every  object  perfectly,  yet  each  one  seemed  to 
look  at  me  as  a  stranger — as  a  sort  of  intruder, 
I  thought.  Had  not  our  infantile  feet  toddled 
over  this  space,  clinging  to  our  dear  mother's 
dress?  Had  we  not  gamboled  here  hand  in 
hand  in  the  careless  innocence  of  childhood  ? 
True,  for  so  many  days,  just  passed,  my  feet 
had  not  trod  that  path  ;  but  it  was  the  first 
time  in  almost  twenty  years  that  the  ground 
had  not  felt  their  pressure  daily,  and  often 
many  times  a  day ;  and  had  I  not  once  and 
35o 


OF  MARTIGNY 

again,  in  the  days  of  my  banishment,  stolen 
forbidden  glances,  and  seen  —  oh,  what  through 
my  tears  had  I  seen?  —  Maria  tripping  gaily 
along  here  under  Luigi  's  smile  ?  —  Could  it  be 
these  memories  that  now  threw  this  startling 
strangeness  over  the  scene  ?  —  or  was  it,  per- 
haps, yet  more  the  sentiments  that  were  boil- 
ing in  my  own  soul  ?  —  the  glamour  of  my 
dazed  perceptions,  —  for  what  was  my  mission 
now?  —  whither  and  for  what  was  I  bound?  — 
to  look  for  a  stray  lamb?  —  ah,  yes,  a  lamb  con- 
demned to  the  slaughter.  I  thought  of  it  under 
this  very  similitude,  for  I  knew  that  stranger 
things  had  happened,  than  it  would  be,  if,  at 
the  first  comprehension  of  the  truth,  her  poor 
heart  should  break,  and  she  should  fall  a  life- 
less corpse  upon  my  breast.  When  I  saw  this 
image  in  my  mind's  eye,  a  cold  shiver  ran  over 
my  whole  frame. 

"  By  an  extraordinary  effort,  however,  I  shook 
myself  at  last  out  of  this  mental  distress,  and 
felt  again  a  sentiment  of  profound  peace  and 
happiness  bubbling  up  from  the  bottom  of  my 
heart.  The  fact  stood,  however,  do  what  I 
would,  that  my  heart  was  convulsed  and,  like 
a  boiling  caldron  within  me,  overflowing  with 
a  confused  fullness  of  content  and  anxiety, 
of  lively  hopes  and  deadly  fears  of  a  melting 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

sisterly  sympathy  and  of  a  self-absorption  that 
seemed  at  other  moments  so  brutal. 

"The  thought  of  living  as  his  wife  with 
Luigi,  anywhere  in  the  wide  world,  much  more, 
if  it  might  safely  be  so,  in  his  own  Italian 
home,  and  of  helping  him  among  the  vines  on 
the  sunny  Mantuan  hills,  made  my  heart  dance 
for  joy.  But  the  only  too  sure  apprehension  of 
there  being  no  escape  from  the  conscription, 
no  respite  without  the  dreadful  parola ;  and  the 
certainty  of  the  long  separation  beyond,  with 
the  dangers  of  life  in  the  field,  and  hardly  less 
in  the  sickly  barracks,  perhaps  in  the  most  dis- 
tant part  of  the  Austrian  empire  —  or  as  the 
grim  alternative,  a  life-long  exile  in  unknown 
America  —  these  were  spectres  which  danced 
like  scowling  demons  in  my  mind's  eye. 

"  Then  my  reflections  over  Maria  would  re- 
turn, still  more  conflicting  and  tumultuous. 
'The  poor  girl! — how  I  loved  her!  —  so  good, 
so  loving,  so  gentle,  so  beautiful !  Was  not 
her  sweet  innocent  soul,  at  that  moment,  para- 
dising  in  pictures  of  love  and  life-long  happi- 
ness?—  alas,  never  to  be  realized! — alas,  to  be 
erased  in  a  moment  before  her  eyes !  Alas, 
the  bitter  draught  of  sorrow  that  she  must 
drink!  —  and  am  I  to  be  the  cup-bearer?  Must 
I,  alas,  press  to  her  dear  lips  the  chalice  of 

352 


OF  MARTIGNY 

misery?  —  Shall  my  breath  perfumed  with  the 
bliss  of  Eden  blow  out  the  light  in  her  soul?  — 
Worst  of  all  —  shall  my  conduct,  which  I  might 
have  altered,  stand  the  active  cause  of  all  this 
mischief? 

'Why  did  I  intermeddle  in  her  affairs?  — 
Why  did  I  do  anything  in  this  matter?  —  Why 
did  I  tell  Luigi  of  myself?  —  Why  did  I  not  act 
the  proxy  for  her  to  the  end?  —  Shall  I  talk 
tender  words  to  her  now  with  my  lips,  and 
with  my  right  hand  go  on  driving  the  iron 
into  her  soul  ? 

'  Why  not  renounce  all  from  this  moment  ? 
-  I  —  self-absorbed  —  selfish  —  unsisterly  —  un- 
natural —  inhuman  —  wretch  !  —  Shall  I  say  I  love 
her?  —  and  go  on  breaking  her  heart-strings? 

'  But  hold  !  —  this  is  not  so.  Another  thought 
comes  into  my  mind.  Did  not  the  Padre  teach 
us  at  our  Confirmation  that  each  of  the  seven 
Sacraments  is  a  triple  mystery;  and  is  made 
tip  of  three  elements  —  the  operation  of  the 
mind,  that  is,  the  intention  ;  the  operation  of 
the  heart,  that  is,  the  affection ;  and  the  opera- 
tion of  the  body,  that  is,  the  various  outward 
actions  by  which  each  of  the  seven  is  consum- 
mated? Did  he  not  tell  us  expressly  that  the 
Sacrament  of  Marriage  was  really  and  truly 
enacted  by  these  three  things,  even  before  it 

353 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

should  be  blessed  and  registered  by  the  Church  ? 
So  that,  although  not  yet  religiously  completed 
(as  it  ought  to  be  and  must  be,  before  it  is 
secure  from  mortal  sin),  yet  it  cannot  be  drawn 
back  from,  or  violated,  without  equally  mortal 
guilt.  Did  not  Jesus  Christ  say  as  much  in 
the  Gospel,  of  one  who  should  put  away  his 
lawful  consort  ? 

'  Sta  bene !  [very  well].  Have  n't  these  three 
things  enacted  the  union — the  infrangible  union 
—  of  Luigi  and  me?  Has  it  not  been  done  really 
by  Providence  —  by  Iddio  Himself.  Is  n't  it, 
then,  almost  like  the  first  marriage  in  the 
Garden  ? 

'It  must  be  right  of  me,  then  —  yes,  it  must 
be  kind  of  me  to  ....  or  rather  not  to  ....  to 
tempt  —  yes,  not  to  allow  them  to  go  on  —  yes, 
indeed,  not  to  permit  them,  in  their  blindness, 
to  rush  into  mortal  sin  —  as  I  am  sure,  I  am 
perfectly  sure  they  would  have  done,  unless  I 
had  told  him  —  that  is,  if  I  had  carried  out 
the  beautiful  theory  —  had  remained  the  silent, 
sweet  proxy  for  her! 

'But,  harl^!  —  what  voice  is  this  that  I  hear  in 
my  soul?  —  Oh,  I  am  afraid  the  Gospel  is  against 
me.  Would  I  like  Maria  to  have  done  so  by 
me  ?  —  She  loved  him  so  —  and  he  loved  her  — 
and  she  hung  her  life  on  being  his  —  and  he 

354 


OF  MARTIGNY 

had  set  his  heart  on  her  —  ah,  what  a  work 
have  I  been  doing!  —  what  a  temple  of  bliss 
have  I  been  tearing  down !  —  and  that  from 
Maria,  dearest  Maria  —  so  innocent  and  so 
gentle  !  —  and  —  and  he  —  so  good  and  hand- 
some and  noble  ! 

'  But  then  they  would  have  to  burn  for  it  — 
at  least  in  Purgatorio. —  No?  —  What  angel  or 
what  demon  is  filling  my  soul  with  voices?  — 
Is  there  a  remedy  ?  Speak,  mental  visitor, 
whoever  thou  art!  —  Ah,  I  see  it  now.  Why 
did  n't  I  comprehend  it  before  ? ' 

"  Up  to  this  moment,  the  consciousness  of 
Luigi  being  securely  mine  had  been  a  constant, 
an  ineffable,  an  inextinguishable  joy  welling  up 
in  the  bottom  of  my  soul,  preserving  a  degree 
of  peace  and  sweetness  there,  notwithstanding 
the  ever-present  bitterness  of  a  sympathy,  not 
to  mention  an  intermittent  twinge  of  shame, 
over  Maria 's  heart-breaking  loss. 

"But  now  a  third  element  of  disquiet  —  yes, 
of  desolation  and  unbearable  misery,  was  borne 
in  upon  my  fevered  imagination.  It  was  a 
gloomy  doubt  (if  it  ought  not  to  be  con- 
sidered a  moral  certainty),  which  was  able 
to  empoison  and  destroy,  with  a  remediless 
wretchedness,  the  happiness  of  us  all. 

"  It  was  flashed  upon  me  now,  with  a  distinct- 

355 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

ness  and  intensity  such  as  I  had  not  felt  before 

—  the  memory  of   the  fact,  with  all  its  possible 
consequences    looming    up    in    my    fancy  —  that 
Luigi  had  never   declared,  not   even   at  the  su- 
preme moment,  any,  the  least,  passion  for  Marta, 
but  had  plainly  confessed,  over  and  over  again, 
that    he    loved    Maria.     Although    so    powerful 
and  perfect  was  the  purity  and  self-control  of 
his  manhood  —  oh,  how  I  adored  him  for  it !  — 
that  even  under  those  extreme  temptations,  his 
arm  had  never  once  been  thrown  around  her ; 
yet    their    souls  —  ah,    yes,    their    souls  —  were 
united  —  as   he    confessed,  'had  mingled   in   the 
most  intimate  embraces  of  love.' 

'  Could  that  foregone'  result  ever  be  undone  ? 

—  that  soul  embrace  between  the  two  —  each  so 
loving  and  so  true  —  could  such  a  pair  ever  be 
unclasped,    much    less    such    a    union   ever    be 
transferred  to  another  ? '     My  reason  answered, 
'  Never,'  and  my  Conscience,  with   an  emphasis 
that  made  me  shudder,  added  an  awful  'Amen.' 

'What  a  foreshadowing  of  woe,  then,  lay 
before  us  all  —  certain  in  this  world  and  hardly 
less  so  for  the  next.  For  were  we  not  human? 

—  and  how  could  human  nature  bear  up,  either 
in  peace  or  sinlessness,  under  such   conditions? 

—  his  hand  mine,  his  heart  hers? 

'But    what    is    this    whisper    in    my    soul?  — 

356 


OF  MARTIGNY 

"  divide,   share    his    love  "  ?  —  Never,   never !  —  I 
can  renounce  —  yes — I  can  —  but  divide  —  share 

—  give  up  half  to  another  woman  —  I  cannot  — 
no,  I    cannot  —  not  even  —  not  even  with  Maria 

—  sister,  darling,  angel  that  she  is  —  no,  no,  no, 
I    would    sooner  —  if    I    must  —  if     I     must  —  I 
would  sooner  —  give  her  the  whole  —  and  —  and 
leap  into  Hell  outright. 

'  Ah,  now  I  see  —  I  comprehend.  It  is  I  —  I 
only  am  in  the  way  —  I  am  the  Jonah  in  their 
voyage.  If  I  were  only  gone  —  how  sweetly  it 
would  bear  them  to  Eden  now  —  and  after  —  to 
Paradiso !  There  would  be  no  Purgatorio  in 
the  question.  It  is  I  who  am  Purgatorio.  Oh, 
oh  !  Why  do  I  not  leap  from  this  precipice  — 
there  is  no  happiness  for  me  here  —  and  take 
my  chances  for  the  other  world  ?  Would  it 
not  be  a  deed  of  charity?  —  and  perhaps  save 
me,  too,  from  the  fire?  Oh,  pity  me,  Maria 
Santissima  !  ' 

"Crazed  with  my  thoughts,  I  wandered  on, 
and  was  already  far  away  from  the  accustomed 
track,  and  rushing  forward  with  the  nearly- 
formed  purpose  of  sacrificing  myself  for  the 
happiness  of  the  two  and  the  honor  of  us  all, 
when,  at  the  moment  that  I  was  approaching 
the  brink,  I  heard,  in  quick  succession,  two 
piercing  screams.  Springing  back  instinctively, 

357 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

and  turning  to  my  left  —  oh,  horrors  !  —  horror 
of  horrors  !  —  what  did  I  see  ?  The  whole  cliff 
on  that  side  was  giving  way,  and  —  oh,  mer- 
ciful God  !  —  Luigi  and  Maria  locked  in  each 
other's  arms,  were  descending  into  the  abyss, 
a  chilometro  below  ! 

"  It  was  only  an  instantaneous  glance,  but  the 
horrid  vision  is  photographed  —  no,  branded  as 
with  a  red-hot  iron  —  for  eternity  in  my  soul. 
Her  head  rested  on  his  bosom.  His  eyes  were 
upturned  toward  heaven.  Their  right  hands 
were  clasped  together.  Her  left  arm  was  raised 
as  if  in  the  act  of  prayer ;  his  encircled  her  in 
the  closeness  of  a  spasmodic  embrace. 

"There  were  two  or  three  seconds  of  a  rat- 
tling, rushing,  roaring  sound  somewhat  like  the 
wind  in  the  fir-tree  tops  in  a  storm.  Then  came 
an  awful  and  prolonged  crash,  the  grinding  of 
rocks  one  upon  another,  then  unearthly  echoes 
rebounding  from  mountain-side  to  mountain- 
side, through  all  the  branching  valleys,  which 
pounded  and  pierced  my  whole  frame  with 
continuous  shocks  of  indescribable  terror.  As 
the  horrible  uproar,  like  the  world  tumbling 
into  ruins,  gradually  ceased,  and  a  silence, 
equally  dreadful,  succeeded,  there  uprose  a 
vast  cloud  of  yellow  dust  into  the  sky,  as  if 
hell  had  opened  her  gates  and  sent  forth  into 

358 


the  upper  world  a  puff  of  her  infernal  at- 
mosphere. 

"  For  an  instant  only,  I  was  fixed  to  the  spot. 
The  next,  I  was  flying  at  my  topmost  speed 
toward  home.  It  had  become  alarmingly  late; 
and  none  of  us  having  returned,  Babbo,  greatly 
worried,  had  started  out  in  search  of  us  all.  I 
met  him,  peering  in  every  direction,  already  at 
some  distance  from  our  home.  The  meeting 
was  unexpected  and  instantaneous.  I  was  rush- 
ing swiftly  around  a  clump  of  hazel  bushes, 
where  the  path  made  a  sharp  turn  to  avoid  an 
angle  of  rock,  and  in  fact  fell  into  his  arms, 
my  breast  almost  striking  upon  his  and  my 
hands  coming  down  on  his  shoulders,  nearly 
felling  him  to  the  ground,  as  well  as  rendering 
him  senseless  with  amazement.  At  first,  I  could 
not  speak,  but  for  some  minutes  wept  hysteric- 
ally on  his  bosom.  When  my  voice  and  self- 
command  returned,  in  reply  to  his  agitated 
enquiries,  I  told  him,  in  the  fewest  words,  what 
I  had  seen.  Without  speaking  a  word,  Babbo 
gently  lifted  my  head  from  his  breast,  and  tak- 
ing my  hand  in  his  led  me  swiftly  and  silently 
down  the  mountain-side.  He  did  not  speak, 
only  a  sigh  now  and  then  escaped  him,  and 
his  hand  trembled  greatly. 

"When    we    arrived    at   the    house    an    unex- 

359 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

pected  good  fortune,  which  greatly  relieved  our 
first  perplexity,  awaited  us  there.  Two  stal- 
wart men  who  had  spent  the  day  at  work  in 
the  forest  below  us  were  passing  on  their  way 
to  their  homes.  Babbo  called  to  them  and  in 
few  words  explained  our  unspeakable  trouble 
and  imperative  need  of  help.  It  was  while 
Babbo  was  thus  talking  with  the  men  that  I 
now  for  the  first  time  heard  how  Luigi  had 
come,  as  he  promised,  and  in  searching  for  me 
had  found  Maria.  The  two  believing  /  that  I 
should,  by  this  time,  have  returned  to  the 
house,  came  back  together.  But  finding  me 
still  absent,  in  great  alarm,  they  started  to- 
gether in  search  of  me.  It  was,  it  seemed 
probable,  in  the  apprehension  that  I  might 
have  fallen  over  the  cliff,  and  possibly  (as  the 
despairing  heart  will  fashion  to  itself  and  cling 
to  the  slenderest  thread  of  hope),  might  be 
still  hanging,  by  some  root  or  twig,  over  the 
yawning  destruction  below  —  impelled  by  such 
a  thought  they  had  ventured  too  far,  and  paid 
with  their  lives  for  their  fidelity  to  me. 

"  The  men,  though  tired  with  the  long,  hard 
work  of  the  day,  and  supperless,  entering  into 
the  case  with  all  the  warmth  of  sympathy  and 
excited  abandon  which  is  native  to  our  Italian 
peasantry,  eagerly  consented  to  help  us,  in  our 
360 


OF  MARTJGNY 

dreadful  distress  and  need.  The  utmost  haste 
was  necessary.  It  was  possible  —  we  thought 
so  —  we  hoped  so  —  that  by  some  miracle  of 
escape  —  they  might  still  be  —  one  or  both  — 
safe,  or  at  least  alive.  We  must  bring  all  the 
help  we  could  command  and  fly  to  their  res- 
cue. Within  two  or  three  minutes  the  three 
men  with  our  two  mules,  and  ropes  and  axes 
and  spades,  a  bottle  of  strong  wine  and  a  lan- 
tern (though  the  moon  was  full  and  the  night 
clear),  were  hurrying  up  through  the  gorge  to 
the  base  of  the  dislodged  cliff. 

"  Dazed  with  horror  I  began  mechanically 
preparing  a  supper  for  the  helping  men,  when 
they  should  return  (for  they  had  two  miles  to 
go  to  their  home  and  could  not  be  sent  off 
exhausted  and  famishing),  and  this  occupation 
was  a  buffer  to  the  first  shafts  of  the  thunder- 
bolt. When  these  preparations  were  over,  I  set 
myself  to  making  such  arrangements  as  -in  my 
ignorance  of  the  facts  seemed  to  be  most  suit- 
able; and  the  uncertainty  and  perplexity  of  my 
thoughts  again  absorbed  for  the  time  much  of 
the  terrible  anguish  of  the  blow.  The  accom- 
modations of  our  house  were  limited.  If  one 
only  were  living,  could  they  be  put  in  the 
same  room?  If  both  should  be  found  alive, 
Maria  would  be  taken  to  our  loft-chamber;  and 
361 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

important  changes  would  have  to  be  made  — 
which  would  not  be  necessary,  if  —  I  did  not 
clothe  this  thought  in  words  —  but  an  awful 
picture  was  painted  in  my  soul. 

"At  last  all  I  could  reasonably  do  was  done, 
and  then  the  terror  of  agony  began  to  grow 
greater  and  the  time  to  pass  slower.  As  the 
Ipng  minutes  and  the  long,  long  hours  went 
by,  I  became  ever  more  and  more  sadly  cer- 
tain that  they  would  not  be  brought  home  in 
life;  and  if  their  lips  were  forever  sealed,  a 
question  I  yearned  to  know  could  never  be 
answered.  My  thoughts  were  glowing  at  fever 
heat,  and  revolved  and  re-revolved  and  gradu- 
ally became  fast  closed  about  this  problem, 
which  I  could  not  satisfactorily  solve;  and  yet, 
in  my  enforced  idleness,  I  could  not  dismiss  it 
from  my  mind.  The  query  would  not  down: 
'What  had  they  said  to  one  another — Luigi 
and  Maria  —  during  the  opportunities  that  were 
offered  by  that  first  and  second  walk  together 
in  the  search  for  me?  Did  Luigi,  probably, 
communicate  to  her  the  facts  of  our  interview  ? 
< — and  explain  the  changed  relations  which 
must,  henceforth,  exist  between  them  —  so  un- 
like what  both  of  them  had  hoped  for  and 
surely  expected? 

'If  he  did,'  I  reflected,  'it  is  also  certain 
362 


OF  MAR  TIG  NY 

that  he  did  it  so  gently,  and  opened  to  her  a 
view  of  his  transparent  soul  so  sweetly,  that 
all  was  done  that  could  be  done  —  and  infi- 
nitely more  than  I  could  have  done  —  to  recon- 
cile her  to  the  inevitable  change  from  a  lover's 
and  a  husband's  to  a  noble  and  tender  brother's 
love.' 

"  But  considering  all  the  circumstances,  re- 
counting them  to  myself  a  thousand  times, 
endeavoring  to  weigh,  with  the  utmost  careful- 
ness, every  scrap  of  evidence  that  could  be 
discovered  in  fact  or  deduced  by  reflection,  I 
was  constrained  —  I  need  not  say  how  happily 
constrained  —  to  believe  that  he  divulged  none 
of  these  matters  to  her. 

'The  occasion,'  I  thought,  'was  inopportune. 
It  was  a  time  of  hurry  from  the  first;  and  of 
increasing  alarm  as  the  hours  wore  on.  There 
was,  also,  much  else  to  think  of  and  speak  of. 
It  was  me  that  was  the  great  object  of  con- 
cern, and  they  were  both  the  most  unselfish 
and  generous  of  beings.  My  danger  and  my 
fate  would  so  absorb  their  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings that  their  own  concerns  and  interests 
would  be  for  the  time  forgotten.' 

"  Besides,  Maria  would,  as  usual,  be  quiet  and 
happy  in  her  shy  and  trustful  love ;  and  no 
one  was  more  sure  than  Luigi  to  be  slow  in 

363 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

approaching  a  matter  of  such  prodigious  and 
tender  interest  to  both.  In  fact,  he  might  very 
properly  escape  the  pain  of  making  the  disclos- 
ure at  all,  by  leaving  this  duty  for  me. 

"Above  all,  I  thought  it  conclusive  to  reflect 
that,  if  he  had  disclosed  it,  the  effect  could 
hardly  fail  to  have  been  evident.  The  shock 
of  such  a  discovery  on  her  affectionate  nature 
would,  for  the  time,  at  least,  have  so  prostrated 
her  strength  as  to  forbid  such  an  expedition  as 
she  undertook  with  Luigi. 

"  It  also  corroborates  this  conclusion,  that,  at 
the  unexpected  moment  of  the  fall,  they  were 
so  near  together  that,  at  the  first  alarm,  they 
clasped  themselves  in  each  other's  arms,  and 
she,  seeing  herself  going  with  him  to  death, 
instinctively  executed  the  last  and  profoundest 
act  of  trustful  love,  nestling  her  head  on  his 
bosom. 

"It  has  been  a  great  comfort  to  me  to  think 
so  —  that  she  was  spared  that  cruel  pang.  She 
never  knew  of  a  rival  for  his  affections.  She 
quaffed  the  cup  of  love  —  ecstatic,  undisturbed 
by  a  doubt,  undashed  with  a  drop  of  bitterness. 
In  a  moment,  and  encircled  by  the  arms  dear- 
est to  her  on  earth,  she  went  with  him  through 
the  shadowy  gateway." 


364 


OF  MARTIGNY 


XXX. 

"  Spirit  no  fetters  can  bind, 
No  wicked  have  power  to  molest, 
There  the  weary,  like  thee,  the  wretched  shall  find 
A  haven,  a  mansion  of  rest." 

MOZART'S  REQUIEM. 

^  T  T  was  very  late  in  the  night  when,  at  last, 
1  from  the  window  of  the  front  room  which 
I  had  passed  several  of  the  earlier  hours  in 
preparing,  I  saw  torches  coming  down  the  path 
and  Babbo  leading  the  way.  The  two  mules 
came  next,  one  at  a  little  distance  behind  the 
other ;  and  as  they  wound  along  the  spiral 
track,  I  could  see  that  there  was  a  single  lit- 
ter of  fir-boughs  swung  between  them,  and 
the  two  helpers  walking  close  behind  brought 
up  the  rear. 

"  My  heart  seemed  then  to  rise  up  into  my 
mouth  and  try  to  utter  inexpressible  things. 
Among  these  I  said  to  myself,  'Alas!  one  lit- 
ter —  then  one  is  lost,  —  buried  in  an  awful 
grave  —  beyond  recovery  till  the  judgment-day! 
—  ah,  which?  —  which  is  that  one? — which  dear 

365 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

body,  at  least,  is  it  that  is  coming  ?  —  oh,  dear ! 
which  would  I  wish  it  to  be  ?  —  shall  I  never 
again  see — him  —  or  —  her! — which  can  I  part 
with  —  forever  !  —  she  would  marry  and  leave 
us  some  day  —  but  him  —  if  he  is  gone  !  —  my 
life  is  gone!  —  I  wish  I  were  in  the  other  world 
with  him ! '  In  my  distraction  I  went  on  thus 
suffering  an  unutterable  anguish  in  my  thoughts, 
as  if  it  rested  with  me  to  decide  this  horrible 
question,  quite  forgetting  that  Iddio  had  decided 
it  already  for  me,  and  that  my  office  was  that 
of  fortitude  alone  and  uncomplaining  resigna- 
tion to  His  will. 

"It  was  fully  a  quarter  of  an  hour  that  that 
dreadful  procession,  laden  with  such  awful  cer- 
tainty, overshadowed  by  such  horror  of  uncer- 
tainty, was  slowly  winding  its  mournful  way 
down  the  circuitous  track  of  the  mountain-side 
in  full  view  of  my  almost  maddened  vision. 
Oh,  the  untold  agony  of  those  never-ending 
minutes !  Oh,  the  rebellious,  wicked  things  I 
thought !  —  even  the  selfish,  unsisterly  senti- 
ments that  passed  through  my  bitter  soul ! 
Oh,  the  dreadful  hopes  which  I  would  not  cher- 
ish, but  could  not  banish,  which  hovered,  like 
shrieking,  ill-omened  birds,  in  my  mental  sky ! 

"At  last  the  suspense  was  over.  The  horror 
was  revealed  in  its  dreadful,  unchangeable 
366 


OF  MARTIGNY 

reality.  I  stood  in  the  open  door  when  the 
heart-rending  procession  arrived.  As  it  wheeled 
in  silence  up  to  the  step,  what  a  sight !  —  what 
an  astonishment  met  my  frenzied  eyes !  That 
vision  was  branded  as  by  a  lightning- flash  on 
my  soul,  and  will  not  be  erased  from  the  tab- 
lets of  my  memory  for  eternity.  There  they 
both  lay  —  the  two  bruised  and  stiffened  bodies 
lay  entwined  together  in  the  indissoluble  em- 
brace —  the  wedlock  of  death  ! 

"  The  full  blow  had  come.  I  knew  the 
worst.  I  was  amazed  at  myself  that  I  did  not 
swoon  at  the  sight.  I  felt  instead  a  strange 
calm  overspreading  my  troubled  spirit.  I  seemed 
to  have  passed  into  another  sphere.  The  glitter 
of  dazzling  hopes  had  been  left  behind.  The 
fever  of  determined  expectations  was  cooled.  I 
accepted  the  allotment  of  the  Omnipotent  Will, 
and  under  all  this  shadow  of  death,  a  sentiment 
of  peace  and  content  poured  into  my  soul,  the 
like  of  which  I  never  before  felt.  'What  is 
this  ?v  I  said  to  myself  in  new  astonishment. 
'Whence  are  these  strong  comforts  that  now 
encircle  my  soul?  Why  am  I  not  now  rather 
standing  in  the  darkest  dungeon  of  despair?' 

"  I  immediately  answered  myself,  or  rather 
the  answer  seemed  to  come  like  a  floating 
whisper  into  my  soul.  'They  are  praying  for 

367 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 


you  now  on  the  other  side,  and  your  guardian 
has  been  sent  to  you  with  his  arms  full  of 
comforts  and  strength.'  Then  it  came  over 
me,  too,  that  this  was  evidence  that  they  were 
safe — that  they  were  surely  where  the  blessed 
are. 

"  Such  thoughts  filled  and  steadied  my  soul 
while  my  hands  were  busied  with  the  last 
earthly  duties  to  the  dead.  According  to  the 
custom  of  our  country,  being  the  only  matron 
of  our  home,  though  so  young,  it  was  my  office 
to  prepare  their  bodies  for  the  grave.  No 
mother  bathes  her  darling  infant  with  tenderer 
hand,  or  with  heart  more  thankful  that  she 
still  has  the  precious  form  to  expend  her  care 
upon,  than  I  prepared  their  dear  bodies  for  the 
tomb.  I  had  them  laid  side  by  side  in  one 
coffin.  I  had  dressed  her  in  her  white  muslin 
gown,  like  a  bride.  I  put  blue  violets  in  her 
hair  and  her  own  blue  and  white  earrings  in 
her  ears.  I  hung  her  blue  rosary  around  her 
beautiful  neck  with  the  Crucifix  lying  on  her 
spotless  bosom.  I  put  her  white  dancing  slip- 
pers on  her  feet,  which  were  tied  with  a  blue 
rosette.  I  laid  her  left  hand  on  her  breast 
below  the  Cross.  I  put  his  left  arm  around 
her,  and  laid  his  left  hand  below  hers  under 
the  Cross.  Their  right  hands  I  joined  together. 
368 


OF  MARTIGNY 

So  that  they  looked  in  their  coffin,  as  nearly 
as  could  be,  as  if  they  were  standing  before 
the  Padre  in  the  act  of  taking  the  everlasting 
vow  and  receiving  the  benediction  of  Holy 
Church. 

"Thus  they  lay  for  four  days  in  our  home 
—  the  weather,  which  was  unusually  cold  for 
the  season,  favoring  delay  of  burial  —  and  while 
the  fragrant  candles  grew  shorter,  many  peo- 
ple, both  neighbors  and  strangers  —  for  the 
news  spread  quickly  and  far — came  and  looked 
into  the  coffin ;  and  many  silent  tears  were 
shed.  Of  course  the  uncle  Medico  was  among 
those  who  came,  and  he  came  not  once  but 
many  times;  and  what  shall  I  say  of  that  dear, 
good  man  ! " 

Here  she  went  on  to  expatiate  on  the  amia- 
ble Medico  —  detailing  with  a  noticeable  zest 
his  hundred  little  attentions  to  her  in  her  sor- 
row, and  his  unnumbered  acts  of  kindness  to 
her  Babbo  in  this  crisis  of  his  affairs.  It  was, 
I  thought,  at  the  time,  a  very  pleasant  theme 
for  her  thoughts,  and  succeeding  events,  I 
could  not  but  hope,  would  justify  my  worldly 
and  wicked  suspicions. 

"So — just  so,"  she  said,  "they  lay  before  the 
high  altar  while  the  Requiem  Mass  was  sung. 
So,  just  so  they  were  buried.  So,  just  -so,  they 
369 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

lie  in  one  coffin  together  in  that  double  grave. 
So,  just  so,  I  have  them  in  my  fancy  when  I 
kneel  in  the  Camposantino  [dear  little  cemetery] 
and  tell  my  beads  and  say,  '•Requiem  dona  eis 
Domine  !  " 

She  ceased  speaking.  I  walked  on  in  silence 
with  her  to  the  path  that  led  up  to  her 
cottage.  Then  with  many  thanks  and  many 
expressions  of  sympathy  and  many  an  adieu, 
I  parted  from  my  interesting  companion,  sadly 
and  forever.  But,  to  use  her  own  expressive 
words  of  her  sister  and  the  youth  with  whom 
her  fate  was  so  tragically  entangled,  very  often 
since,  '  our  souls  have  conversed  together ' ; 
and  I  will  not  deny  that  at  a  revival  of 
these  memories,  I  have  often  found  the  world 
growing  dim  around  me,  and  felt  a  hot  stream 
rolling  across  my  cheeks. 


OF  MARTIGNY 


CONCLUSION. 

IN  the  summer  of  1868,  I  found  myself  again 
in  Italy,  and  at  the  moment  of  which  I  now 
speak,  at  the  Hdtd  du  Montblanc  in  Aesfa,  whither 
I  now  arrived  by  the  same  route  that  I  had 
traveled  fourteen  years  before. 

While  treating  with  the  Directeur  at  the  office, 
I  observed  in  fair  letters  on  the  end  of  a  large 
baule  [in  American  speech,  "  Saratoga "],  which 
was  bound  with  a  cord,  like  a  package  from  a 
retail-shop,  and  sealed  at  every  crossing  of  the 
string  with  huge  patches  of  red  wax,  the  name 
FERRENTI.  Then,  running  my  eye  up  the  list 
of  names  on  the  register  where  I  had  just 
set  my  own,  I  read  with  a  heart-quickening 
surprise  which  I  think  the  reader  can  well 
imagine:  ' Dottor  G.  Ferrenti  e  Moglie  e  Figlio 
e  Bambinaia'  [Dr.  G.  F.,  wife,  son,  and  nurse]. 

On  enquiry,  I  was  told  that  the  Doctor  and 
his  wife  were  gone  for  a  few  days  to  Martigny, 
but  that  the  child  was  left  there  in  the  care  of 
his  nurse.  Where  they  were  at  that  moment 
was  unknown.  I  pursued  my  enquiries  to  the 

371 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

limit  of  propriety,  of  every  maid  and  serv- 
ing-man I  met,  but  in  vain.  They  had  been 
seen  here,  and  seen  there,  a  few  minutes 
before,  but  were  everywhere  invisible  now.  I 
learned,  also,  that  they  sometimes  strayed  into 
the  country,  and  in  this  case  might  not  appear 
again  till  evening. 

This  distressed  me  much,  for  my  arrange- 
ments compelled  me  to  leave  for  the  south  by 
a  late  afternoon  train,  and  I  felt  an  infinite 
curiosity  to  see  the  child,  if  I  could  not  see 
the  good  Doctor,  and  especially  to  learn,  after 
my  old  suspicions,  also  who  the  wife  and 
mother  might  be. 

However,  I  could  only  wait  and  hope  ;  and 
having  heard  much,  among  other  objects  of 
antiquarian  interest  in  the  suburbs  of  this  old 
Celtic  stronghold  (which  gave  the  great  Julius 
so  much  trouble  in  keeping  open  the  passes  of 
St.  Bernard  to  his  provinces  in  Gaul,  and  which 
was  only  cleared  up  by  Augustus  extirpating 
the  whole  tribe  of  the  Salassi,  selling  36,000 
men,  women,  and  children  into  slavery),  of  the 
Church  of  St.  Orso,  with  its  tomb,  in  the  choir, 
of  old  bishop  Gallus,  who  had  been  sleeping 
there  more  than  1,300  years;  of  the  old  Roman 
Crypt,  and  various  other  objects  of  similar 
interest  contained  in  it,  all  of  which  I  had 
372 


OF  MARTIGNY 

never  seen  —  I  now  happily  bethought  myself 
that  I  could  not  better  spend  the  time  I  had 
on  my  hands,  than  by  making  such  a  visit.  I 
left  my  hotel  and  sauntered  along  the  prin- 
cipal street  through  the  ancient  Porta  Pretoria 
to  the  Triumphal  Arch  of  Augustus,  and  across 
the  Bulkier,  stopping  to  examine  the  still  re- 
maining arch  of  the  old  Roman  bridge,  half 
buried  in  the  ground,  and  wandered  on  and 
around  to  the  said  Church  of  St.  Orso,  and 
entered. 

I  immediately  observed  the  kneeling  figures 
of  a  young  female  and  of  a  boy  apparently  about 
ten  years  old  before  a  shrine  of  the  Madonna. 
I  could  not  doubt  that  I  had  thus  unexpectedly 
found  the  objects  of  my  search. 

They  at  once  became  of  more  interest  to 
me  than  any  other  object  of  my  curiosity,  and 
I  kept  them  constantly  under  my  eye.  The 
time  I  had  to  wait  seemed  long  to  me,  but 
at  last  they  rose  from  their  knees,  curtesied 
and  bowed  toward  the  altar,  went  to  an  alms- 
box  and  deposited  their  offering,  and  hand  in 
hand  walked  silently  and.  rather  rapidly  toward 
the  ustt'0,  which  was  in  this  case  a  side-door 
closed  by  the  usual  leathern  curtain. 

As  soon  as  I  saw  them  ready  to  leave  the 
church,  I  issued  first  and  contrived,  by  crossing 

373 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

a  little  open  space,  to  meet  them  face  to  face. 
The  girl  was  a  pretty  maid  of  some  sixteen 
summers,  with  great  black  eyes,  and  a  bright, 
serious  face.  The  child  was  a  finely-formed 
youngster,  very  dark,  with  curling  black  hair, 
which  seemed  never  to  have  been  cut,  and 
hung  waving  far  down  his  shoulders.  His 
face  !  —  My  heart  leapt  for  joy.  It  was  indeed 
one  I  had  seen  before  —  could  not  mistake  — 
could  never  forget. 

I  made  the  customary  salute,  which  was  in- 
stantly and  gracefully  returned  by  the  little 
gentleman,  but  instead  of  passing,  I  stepped  in 
front  of  him,  and  after  a  hasty  apology,  told 
him  I  believed  I  was  an  old  friend  of  his  par- 
ents, and  if  he  would  assure  me  that  it  was  so, 
by  giving  me  his  name,  I  would  like  to  make 
some  enquiries  about  them. 

Without  any  hesitation  he  replied  :  "  Gulielmo 
Luigi  Maria  Donato  Ombrosino  Ferrenti." 

This,  of  course,  in  effect,  told  me  everything. 
But  in  fact  I  could  have  read  it  all  in  his  face 
and  figure  and  manner;  for  he  was,  in  every 
feature,  an  unmistakable  copy  of  his  mother. 
Besides,  had  I  been  blind,  his  tones  —  that 
never  to  be  forgotten  timbre — would  have  re- 
produced hers  in  my  ears  beyond  the  possi- 
bility of  error. 

374 


OF  MARTIGNY 

I  walked  back  with  them  to  the  hotel,  telling 
him  something  about  my  long  ago  acquaint- 
ance with  his  mother  and  drawing  from  him 
all  his  little  head  could  tell  of  her  history 
since  —  which  was  not  much  —  but  was  of  the 
most  important  kind.  'They  lived  in  Naples. 
He  was  born  there.  His  Babbo  made  the 
Prince  (he  did  not  know  his  other  names) 
to  get  well  when  he  was  sick.' 

He  showed  me  a  picture  of  his  mother  which 
he  wore  in  a  gold  locket  around  his  neck.  It 
was  the  face  I  knew.  Age  had  added  some- 
thing, years  of  life  in  a  wider  and  more  ex- 
alted station  had  added  more,  and  all  was  in  a 
manner  glorified  by  the  dress  and  pose  of  a 
lady  instead  of  the  young  and  interesting  yet 
undeniable  contadina  whom  I  had  met  fourteen 
years  agone. 

I  gave  him  a  visiting  card  with  my  address 
for  the  next  few  weeks  in  Rome,  and  a  small 
photograph  of  myself  for  the  mother. 

During  the  day  I  parted  from  him  with  a 
kiss,  and  went  on  my  way  toward  the  south. 
I  never  saw  him  nor  his  parents  again.  Some 
weeks  later,  passing  through  Naples,  and  mak- 
ing enquiry  for  the  family,  I  found  that  the 
Doctor  was  well  known  in  upper  circles  there, 
but  had  not  then  returned  from  the  north. 

375 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

One  word  more  finishes  this  history  forever. 
Being  again  in  Naples  at  the  end  of  the  eigh- 
ties, I  sought  there  for  my  interesting  friends, 
and  found  that  during  the  season  of  the  cholera 
which  visited  Naples  with  such  violence34  in 
the  summer  and  autumn  of  1884,  putting  in  so 
much  anxiety  even  the  life  of  the  amiable  and 
self-forgetting  King  of  Italy,  the  faithful  Doctor 
Ferranti  was  struck  by  the  malady  and  died; 
and  within  a  few  days  was  followed,  from  the 
same  cause,  by  his  wife  and  son.  In  short, 
that  the  family  which  had  been  of  such  inter- 
esting concern  to  me  was  now  extinct  in  this 
world. 


376 


NOTES. 


NOTES. 

PAGE  7.     NOTE  i. 
"Now  the  Sunday-morning  Belt." 

Schon  klingen  Morgenglocken, 

Der  liebe  Gott  nun  bald 
Geht  durch  den  stillen  Wald, 

Da  kniet'  ich  froh  erschrocken. 

BARON  VON  EICHENDORF. 

The  allusion  of  the  poet  is,  of  course,  to  the  Ave  Maria  bell, 
echoing  around  the  world  at  dawn  the  daily  call  to  prayer. 

PAGE  10.     NOTE  2. 
"  The  grave  is  sfill  and  deep." 

Das  Grab  ist  tief  und  stille 
Und  schauderhaft  sein  Rand  ; 

Es  deckt  mit  schwartzer  Hiille 
Ein  unbekantes  Land. 

Das  Lied  der  Nachtigallen 

Tont  nicht  in  seinem  Schoos  ; 
Der  Freundschaft  Rosen  fallen 

Nur  auf  des  Hiigels  Moos. 

Verlass'ne  Braute  ringen 

Umsonst  die  Hande  wund  ; 
Der  Waise  Klagen  dringen 

Nicht  in  der  tiefe  Grund. 

SALTS. 

379 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 
PAGE  30.     NOTE  3. 

"  Oh,  do  not  dry,  etc." 

Trocknet  nicht,  trocknet  nicht 

Thranen  der  ewigen  Liebe  ! 

Ach,  nur  dem  halb-getrockneten  Auge 

Wie  ode  wie  todt  die  Welt  ihm  erscheint. 

Trocknet  nicht,  trocknet, 

Thranen  ungluchlicher  Liebe  ! 

GOETHE. 

PAGE  49.     NOTE  4. 

The  cruel  political  strifes  between  the  Guelfs  and  the  Ghibe- 
lines,  and  between  the  Bianchi  [whites]  and  the  Neri  [blacks], 
parties  into  which  the  Guelfs  were  divided  when  the  Ghibelines 
had  been  overpowered,  is  known  to  every  reader  of  Dante,  whose 
mournful  history  is  almost  a  monologue  upon  these  XIII  and 
xiv  century  quarrels. 

The  Piagnoni  and  the  Palleschi,  in  a  certain  sense  heirs  of  the 
more  ancient  strife,  come  into  view  most  prominently  two  centu- 
ries later,  in  the  times  of  the  great  political  preacher,  Savonarola, 
and  revolve  about  the  successful  struggle  of  the  Medici  for  su- 
preme power  in  Florence.  The  dreadful  story  is  graphically  out- 
lined by  Massimo  D'  Azeglio  in  his  famous  historical  novel,  Nicolb 
de'  Lapi. 

The  word  Piagnone  properly  means  a  person  who  weeps  easily 
and  for  trifling  cause.  It  is  commonly  used  of  the  '  weepers '  who 
accompany,  for  pay,  a  dead  body  to  the  grave.  It  was  a  nickname 
given  in  Florence  to  the  followers  of  Savonarola,  who  were  hos- 
tile to  the  Medicean  faction. 

Pallesco  properly  means  a  '  ballman.'  It  is  a  comical  adjective 
formed  irompalla  [a  ball],  and  was  a  nickname  given  in  Florence 
to  those  who  belonged  to  the  party  of  the  Medici,  whose  arms 
were  six  balls. 

380 


OF  MARTIGNY 

PAGE  69.     NOTE  5. 

"  But  night  for  each,  etc." 
....   Sed  omnes  una  manet  nox 
Et  calcanda  semel  via  leti. 

HOR.  CAR.  i,  18. 

PAGE  71.     NOTE  6. 

As  is  universal  in  Continental  Europe,  it  is  to  be  supposed  that 
Signer  Ombrosini  had  several  Baptismal  names,  among  which  was 
facobo,  which  his  wife  had  chosen  for  her  own  affectionate  use 
and  Gallicized  into  Jacques,  while  he  himself  used  Filippo,  which 
appears,  also,  to  have  been  that  by  which  he  was  generally  called 
in  his  youth. 

PAGE  80.     NOTE  7. 

La  Compagnia  della  Misericordia  is  the  Italian  name  of  a  Char- 
itable Brotherhood,  found  in  most  Roman  Catholic  countries, 
whose  office  is  to  render  assistance  to  those  who  are  overtaken  by 
sudden  sickness,  or  serious,  especially  mortal  accident,  and  to  bury 
the  dead  —  chiefly  the  very  poor  and  strangers. 

PAGE  80.     NOTE  8. 
Miserere  mei  Deus. 

The  soth  Psalm  of  the  Vulgate.  It  is  numbered  51  in  King 
James's  Version. 

PAGE  81.     NOTE  9. 
Ostende  nobis  Domine. 

The  84th  Psalm  of  the  Vulgate,  8th  verse.  It  is  numbered  85 
in  King  James's  Version,  7th  verse. 

PAGE  101.     NOTE  10. 

"Gave  the  tu  to  each  other."  That  is,  in  addressing  one 
another,  used  the  second  person  singular  instead  of  the  common 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

second  plural,  or  the  still  more  formal  third  person  singular.  It  is 
an  expression  of  familiarity  common  to  all  the  Romaic  languages, 
and  to  some  others,  but  quite  unknown  to  ours,  and  the  subtile 
sentiment  carried  by  it,  it  is  difficult,  perhaps  impossible,  for  us 
fully  to  realize,  since  it  is  strictly  reserved  for  such  as  stand  to 
one  another  in  the  most  sacred,  or  personal,  or  intimate  relations. 

PAGE  109.     NOTE  n. 

The  tower  of  Bramafam  was  built  in  the  xii  century,  and  is 
that  in  which  Count  Challant  is  said,  out  of  jealousy,  to  have 
starved  his  wife  to  death. 

PAGE  123.     NOTE  12. 

"  What  if  I  choose  to  weep  alone." 
Und  hab'  ich  einsam  auch  geweint, 

So  ist's  mein  eignen  Schmerz, 
Und  Thranen  fliessen  gar  so  si'iss 
Erleichtern  mir  das  Herz. 

GOETHE,  Trost  in   Thranen. 

PAGE  128.     NOTE  13. 

The  scudo  [shield]  was  until  recently  in  Tuscany  a  nominal 
piece  of  money  representing  a  value  of  5^0  Lire  [about  one  dol- 
lar]. In  the  Pontifical  and  some  other  Italian  States  it  was,  at  one 
time,  a  real  piece,  but  of  various  values. 

PAGE  139.     NOTE  14. 
"Why  now  Casella  mine,  etc." 

Casella  mio 

£>tss'  io  ;  ma  a  te  come  tanta  ora  e  tolta  ? 

PURG.  ii,  91,  93. 

382 


OF  MARTIGNY 

PAGE  146.     NOTE  15. 

St.  Francis  of  Assist,  founder  of  the  Order  of  the  Francescan 
monks,  is  said  to  have  retired  to  a  desolate  mountain  for  the 
purpose  of  passing  forty  days  in  fasting  and  prayer.  On  the  day 
of  the  Elevation  of  the  Cross,  while  he  was  engaged  in  intense 
devotion,  and  was  agonized  in  contemplation  of  the  pangs  of  the 
Crucified,  Christ  Himself  appeared  to  him  in  the  form  of  a  Seraph, 
and  imprinted  on  him,  under  crushing  pains,  the  scars  of  the  five 
wounds  of  His  passion.  This  vision  and  miracle  is  said  to  have 
occurred  in  the  year  1224.  Benedict  XII,  an  Avignon  Pope, 
granted  to  the  Order  the  Celebration  of  the  Feast  of  the  '  Imprint- 
ing.' The  festival  occurs  on  the  I7th  of  September. 

PAGE  152.     NOTE  16. 

"  Rosolio  "  [oil  of  roses]  is  an  Italian  wine  of  exquisite  flavor  and 
perfume,  called  also  by  the  natives  Rugiada  del  sole  [sun-dew]. 

PAGE  167.     NOTE  17. 

"  The  Siege  of  Firenze"  [Florence].  She  alludes  to  the  final 
and  successful  attempt  of  the  Medici  to  grasp  the  supreme  power, 
in  1530,  when,  under  a  coalition  of  the  Emperor  Charles  V  with 
Pope  Clement  VII,  of  the  house  of  Medici,  Florence  was  invested 
by  the  Duke  of  Orange,  and  both  the  name  and  form  of  the  Re- 
public were  quenched  in  the  best  blood  of  the  city — most  stirring 
pictures  of  which  abound  in  D'Azeglio's  novel  alluded  to  above. 

PAGE  167.    NOTE  18. 

"  Views  in  old  Siena."  It  "has  rather  justly  been  called  'the 
Pompeii  of  the  Middle  Ages,'  since  no  other  city  of  Italy  has  taken 
on  so  little  of  a  modern  appearance,  and  retained  so  much  of  the 
medieval  —  so  that  its  wolf-topped  pillars,  its  queer  Palio  [horse- 
race], its  fountain  Fontebranda.  its  Mangia  tower,  and  many  other 
things  there,  are  .almost  or  quite  as  curious  and  interesting  sights 
to  an  Italian  of  to-day  as  to  a  visitor  from  foreign  parts. 

3*3 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

PAGE  197.     NOTE  19. 
"  And  suddenly  tipon  the  day  arose." 
E  di  subito  parve  giorno  a  giorno 

Essere  aggiunto,  come  Quei  che  puote 
Avesse  il  ciel  d'un  altro  Sole  adorno. 
Beatrice  tutta  nell'  eterne  rote 

Fissa  con  gli  occhi  stava  ;  ed  io,  in  lei 
Le  luci  fisse  di  lassu  rimote. 


Non  dei  piu  ammirar,  se  bene  stimo, 

Lo  tuo  salir,  se  non  come  d'un  rivo 

Se  d'  alto  monte  scende  giuso  ad  imo. 
Maraviglia  sarebbe  in  te,  se  privo 

D'  impedimento  giu  ti  fossi  assiso, 

Com'  a  terra  quieto  fuoco  vivo. 

PAR.  i,  61,  136. 

PAGE  208.     NOTE  20, 
"  0  Death,  you  must  surely  delay." 
Mon  beau  voyage  encore  est  si  loin  de  se  fin ! 
Je  pars  et  des  ormeaux  qui  bordent  le  chemin 

J'ai  passe  les  premiers  a  peine. 
Au  banquet  de  la  vie  a  peine  commence 
Un  instant  seulement  mes  levres  ont  presse 
La  coupe  en  mes  mains  encor  pleine. 

LA  JEUNE  CAPTIVE. 

PAGE  211.     NOTE  21. 

"A  bright  zecchino."  A  golden  coin  of  several  countries.  In 
Tuscany  it  had  the  value  of  H-ffo  lire  [about  $2.25].  It  is  no 
longer  coined,  but  the  phrase  is  common,  '  oro  di  zecchino'  [zec- 
chino-gold]  for  finest  gold. 

384 


OF  M 'A R TIG 'NY 

PAGE  228.     NOTE  22. 

"  Alive  as  the  wind  harp,  etc." 
Aber,  wie  leise  vom  Zephyr  erschiittert, 
Schnell  die  aolische  Harfe  erzittert, 
Also  die  ftihlende  Seele  der  Frau. 

WURDE  DER  FRAUEN. 

PAGE  241.     NOTE  23. 

"  Alia  dolce  ombra  delle  belle  frondi." 

This  poem,  which  is  such  a  favorite  in  Italy,  owes  something, 
at  least,  of  its  popularity — it  is  hard  for  zforestiero  to  say  how 
much  —  to  the  exceedingly  mellifluous  flow  of  the  rhythm,  united 
to  a  sentiment  of  wonder  at  the  miraculous  skill  with  which  the 
stanzas  are  constructed. 

These  are  technically  known  as  the  unrhymed  sestine  [sixes]  — 
the  most  artificial  of  all  poetical  handiwork,  and  hardly  known  or 
possible  outside  of  the  language  of  Italy.  The  number  of  sylla- 
bles in  a  line  is  eleven,  as  is,  also,  for  the  most  part,  the  rule  for 
all  unrhymed  verse  in  Italian. 

But  the  number  of  stanzas  in  the  poem  is  six.  The  number  of 
lines  in  a  stanza  is  six.  The  six  line-ending  words  of  the  first 
stanza  are  the  same  in  each  of  the  six  stanzas,  but  in  a  varied  order  : 
and  the  last  word  of  the  first  line  of  each  succeeding  stanza  is  the 
same  as  the  last  word  of  the  last  line  of  the  preceding  stanza. 

At  the  end  of  the  poem  there  is  a  coda  or  refrain  of  three  more 
lines,  ending  with  three  of  the  same  six  words. 

The  first  stanza,  which  will  give  a  fair  idea  of  the  whole,  is : 

Alia  dolce  ombra  delle  belle  frondi 
Corsi  fuggendo  un  dispietato  lume 
Che  '«/?«  quaggiu  inardea  dal  terzo  cielo; 
E  disgombrava  gia  di  neve  i  poggi 
L'aura  amorosa  che  rinnova  il  tempo, 
E  fiorian  per  le  piagge  I'  erbe  e  i  rami. 

385 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

TRANSLATION. 

To  the  sweet  shade  of  the  beautiful  tree 
A  disquieting  heat  compelled  me  to  flee 
From  the  third  heaven  descending  on  me  ; 
While  the  amorous  breeze  strips  the  snow-covered  hill 
And  the  primrose  is  born  on  the  banks  of  the  rill 
And  the  grasses  and  flowers  their  fragrance  distill. 

The  substance  of  the  rather  obscure  thought  is  this  :  He  says 
it  was  Springtime  when  he  fled  from  the  heat  [of  natural  passion], 
i.  f.,  when  he  became  enamored  of  his  Laura  and  found  solace  in 
her  presence.  This  is  a  pun  on  the  name  of  Laura,  a  laurel-tree. 
The  third  heaven,  again,  is  the  sphere  of  Venus,  who  enkindled 
this  passion.  The  'amorous  breeze,'  V  aura  amorosa,  love-in- 
spiring Laura,  who  melts  the  snowiest  heart,  is  another  pun  on 
the  same  dear  name.  And  so  on  and  on. 


PAGE  245.     NOTE  24. 
' '  In  peace  remain  :  I  go  :  for  now  " 
Rimanti  in  pace  :   i'  vado  :  a  te  non  lice 
Meco  venir  :  chi  mi  conduce,  il  vieta. 
Rimanti,  o  va  per  altra  via  elice. 

GERUS.  LIB.  xvi,  55. 


PAGE  253.     NOTE  25. 
"  A  s  in  form  of  butterfly  " 
In  des  Papillons  Gestalt 
Flattr'ich,  nach  den  letzten  Zi'igen, 
Zu  den  vielgeliebten  Stellen 
Zeugen  himmlischer  Vergniigen 
Ueber  Wiesen,  an  den  Quellen, 
Um  den  Hiigel,  durch  den  Wald. 

3% 


OF  MARTIGNY 

Ich  belausch'  ein  zartlich  Paar  ; 
Von  des  schonen  Madchens  Haupte 
Aus  den  Kranzen  schau'  ich  nieder  ; 
Alles  was  der  Tod  mir  raubte 
Seh'  ich  hier  im  Bilde  wieder, 
Bin  so  gliicklich  wie  ich  war. 


Sie  umarmt  ihn  lachelnd  stumm, 
Und  sein  Mund  geniesst  der  Stunde, 
Die  ihm  gtit'ge  Cotter  senden, 
Hiipft  vom  Busen  zu  dem  Munde, 
Von  dem  Munde  zu  den  Handen, 
Und  ich  htipf  um  ihn  herum. 


Und  sie  sieht  mich  Schmetterling. 
Zitternd  vor  des  Freunds  Verlangen 
Springt  sie  auf,  da  flieg'  ich  feme. 
"  Liebster,  komm,  ihn  einzufangen  ! 
Komm  !  ich  halt'  es  gar  zu  gerne, 
Gern  das  kleine  bunte  Ding." 

SCHADENFREUDE. 


PAGE  262.     NOTE  26. 

"  Et  dejiniens  statuta  tempera  et  tcrminos  habitationis  nos- 
trae"  VULGATE,  Acts  xvii,  26  [And  has  determined  the  times 
before  appointed  and  the  bounds  of  our  habitation].  It  is  not 
uncommon  for  the  better  educated  peasantry  in  all  Catholic  coun- 
tries, to  which  Italy  is  no  exception,  to  know,  at  least  by  rote,  the 
more  important  parts  of  the  Bible  in  the  Vulgate  version,  as  well 
as  large  portions  of  their  great  Poets,  being  familiarized  with  them 
in  childhood  in  the  Parish-school. 

387 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

PAGE  281.    NOTE  27. 
"  Of  the  judgments  of  •woman" 
Molti  consigli  de  le  donne  sono 
Meglio  improvise,  ch'  a  pensarvi,  usciti ; 
Che  questo  e  speizale  e  proprio  dono 
Fra  tanti  e  tanti  lor  dal  ciel  largiti. 
Ma  puo  mal  quel  degli  uomini  esser  buono, 
Che  maturo  discorso  non  aiti, 
Ove  non  s"  abbia  a  ruminarvi  sopra 
Speso  alcun  tempo  e  molto  studio  et  opra. 

ORLANDO  FURIOSO,  xxvii,  i. 

PAGE  314.     NOTE  28. 

"  A  beautiful  copy  of  the  Cenacolo  di  Foligno"  The  original 
is  now  treasured  in  Florence  (in  the  secularized  Convent  of  S. 
Onofrio  in  the  Via  Faenza).  I  quite  agree  with  Luigi  that  this 
'  Supper '  is  by  far  the  most  soul-satisfying  to  me  of  all  I  have  ever 
seen  —  not  the  Leonardo  da  Vinci  at  Milan,  in  this  respect  sur- 
passing it. 

Besides  the  great  advantage  which,  of  course,  Raffaelle's picture 
has,  in  its  excellent  state  of  preservation,  over  Leonardo's  in  its 
'  deplorable  condition,'  and  setting  aside  a  comparison  of  artistic 
merit  between  two  supreme  artists,  the  work  of  either  of  whom  is 
unapproachable,  the  comforting  motive  of  Raffaelle's  picture  goes 
home  to  my  heart  with  a  joy  which  I  do  not  find  in  the  same  de- 
gree from  the  painfully  pleasing  shock  which  Leonardo's  famous 
work  was  designed  to  give  and  does  give  to  every  sensitive  soul. 
Luigi  had  only  seen  copies  of  either  of  these,  and  I  think,  no 
doubt,  Leonardo's  also  loses  more  by  the  best  attainable  copying 
than  Raffaelle's  does  under  the  same  conditions. 

PAGE  314.     NOTE  29. 

The  Crucifixion,  or  Christ  upon  the  Cross  with  more  or  less 
additional  figures  and  environments,  was  several  times  painted  by 


Fra  Angelica  da  Fiesole,  with  great  success.  Into  each  of  these 
he  infused,  perhaps  in  a  higher  degree  than  any  other  artist  has 
done,  the  peculiar  type  of  his  own  character,  and  especially  of  his 
own  religious  emotions. 

Luigi,  no  doubt,  refers  to  a  copy  of  his  Crucifixion  in  the 
Chapter  House  of  the  Monastery  (at  that  date  not  yet  suppressed), 
of  S.  Marco  in  Florence.  Into  this  are  introduced  many  saints 
gazing  up  at  the  Saviour  in  wonder,  sorrow,  and  ecstasy,  and 
around  is  a  framework  of  prophets  and  sybils,  and  beneath,  is 
kneeling  5.  Domenico,  from  whom  springs  a  Tree  of  the  Order 
branching  into  many  distinguished  saints.  And  it  seems  to  me 
that  Luigi  was  quite  right  in  his  homage  of  the  depth  of  senti- 
ment and  sense  of  beauty,  as  well  as  of  deep  and  devoted  piety, 
which  reign  in  that  picture  —  and  perhaps  I  ought  to  say  in  all 
the  products  of  the  pious  and  peaceful  genius  of  that  lovely  Chris- 
tian soul  and  Dominican  friar. 

PAGE  318.     NOTE  30. 

The  curious  reader  may  find  the  whole  dialogue,  full  of 
Leopardis  most  subtile  thoughts,  in  the  Le  Monnier  edition 
of  Leopard? s  Ofere,  Vol.  I,  page  221  et  seq. 

Of  Tasso  himself,  I  think  it  may  be  said  that  he  leads  the 
whole  celestial-terrestrial  choir  in  the  infantile  purity  and  naivete 
of  his  sentiments  towards  the  sex. 

Is  it  not  possible,  then,  that  this  very  absence  of  the  grosser 
sensualism  of  love  in  his  soul,  was  a  feature  which  brutish  Alfonso 
could  not  conceive  ;  and  that  he  in  consequence  imagined  and  be- 
lieved what  was  not  and  could  not  be  true  ? 

Still,  after  all  that  has  been  said  and  written,  by  great  and 
small,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  true  reason  for  his  emprisonment  is 
to-day  as  uncertain  as  it  was  to  poor  Tasso  himself,  and  has  been 
ever  since. 

Of  course,  in  addition  to  the  fact  of  his  long  and  painful  incar- 
ceration, it  is  certain  that,  as  Dante  had  his  Beatrice,  and  Petrarca 
his  Laura,  so  Tasso  had,  as  the  inspiration  of  his  erotic  muse,  his 

389 


THE    TWIN  SISTERS 

Lucretia-i  and  that  there  was  a  lady  of  such  name,  sister  to  the 
reigning  Duke,  and  that  the  poet  must  often  have  met  this  lady  at 
the  court  of  Alfonso  and  in  the  Ducal  Palace  at  Ferrara. 

How  much  of  the  rest  is,  in  fact,  the  glamour  of  poetic  frenzy, 
every  reader  must,  I  think,  determine  for  himself. 

PAGE  325.    NOTE  31. 
"  Not  two  miles  traveled,  when,  etc." 
Non  furo  iti  duo  miglia,  che  sonare 

Odon  la  selva,  che  li  cinge  intorno, 
Con  tal  rumor  e  strepito,  che  pare 

Che  tremi  la  foresta  d'ogni  intorno  ; 
E  poco  dopo  un  gran  destrier  n'appare, 

D'oro  guernito  e  riccamente  adorno, 
Che  salta  macchie  e  rivi,  et  a  fracasso 

Arbori  mena  e  cio  che  vieta  il  passo. 

ORLANDO  FURIOSO  I,  72. 

PAGE  340.     NOTE  32. 

The  staffiere  [stirrup-man]  might  be  roughly  translated 
'esquire,'  but  it  has  no  really  exact  name  in  English,  because 
the  English  have  never  had  precisely  the  thing.  Where  it  has 
a  use  it  means,  properly,  that  servant  of  a  prince  or  great  lord 
who  goes  on  foot  beside  the  stirrup  of  the  riding  lord. 

PAGE  376.     NOTE  33. 

It  is  of  record  that  in  one  night  of  September,  1884,  nearly 
2,000  persons  in  Naples  were  attacked  with  the  cholera  and  about 
1,000  died.  King  Humbert  spent  a  considerable  time  in  the  city 
during  the  prevalence  of  the  scourge,  when  nearly  all  who  were 
able  to  flee  had  fled,  not  only  lending  his  influence  and  authority 
to  the  measures  for  combatting  the  disease,  but  visiting  the  hospi- 
tals and  giving  his  personal  sympathy  and  large  sums  of  money, 
from  his  not  over-full  private  purse,  for  the  relief  of  the  suffering 
poor. 

390 


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